


Wake Up

by Viridian5



Category: Saiyuki
Genre: Drama, M/M, Modern Setting, Reincarnation, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-04-27
Updated: 2009-04-10
Packaged: 2017-10-02 07:30:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 40,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Viridian5/pseuds/Viridian5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Through time, they're trying to find themselves and each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Vaguely spoilerish for a lot of things, manga and anime, including _Requiem_.
> 
> Thanks to Bardsley and Lunarennui for pre-reading and encouragement.

That had gone better than Tim had expected. It had been a good idea to give his family time, three weeks, to get over feeling that he'd been stupid to take a bullet protecting a student of his and be more relieved that he'd survived.

They could meet Ravi another time.

Then again, perhaps it might have been better to present his injured self and his new, younger, and somewhat exotic and sluttish seeming boyfriend to them all at once in the hopes that they'd be so glad he was alive that they might be more accepting and less likely to think he was having a very early midlife crisis due to nearly getting himself killed recently. There would have been a justice to bringing Ravi, since they'd first met that night and Ravi had helped save his life. But too late now.

It would be good to return to Chicago and Ravi. He'd missed them.

Something at the side of the road ahead caught Tim's eye and made him slow his driving. A thin blond teen turned a little to face him and put out his thumb to hitchhike. Despite a healing bullet wound to the contrary, Tim didn't often take risks and wouldn't think of picking up a hitchhiker but something about this one struck Tim's heart. Something about the way he... smoked? Tim didn't know.

He stopped the car and put the passenger side window down, which sent a blast of summer heat in. "Where are you heading?"

The boy blew out a plume of cigarette smoke, then said, "West." Walking along the road had left a fine coating of reddish dirt on his blue jeans, shirt, and trucker's cap.

"That's rather vague."

"As far west as you'll take me."

What an odd request. It intrigued Tim, even though he knew Ravi would kick him for being an idiot. "All right. Get in."

"Thanks."

The boy slung his backpack onto the floor and settled his legs around it as he sat. The boy's combat boots were even dirtier than the rest of him. As he closed the door with one hand, he pointed to the cigarette in his mouth with the other and asked, "You mind?"

"No. I'm used to it." Tim started the car up again and returned to the road.

"Good."

"I'm Tim."

"Sam." Looking tired, Sam took off his cap and shoved it into his pack, crossed his arms over his chest, and settled back in his seat.

Tim knew that some people saw it as somewhat hip to wear clothing larger than they should have, but something about Sam suggested that he'd lost weight since he'd bought what he wore. It tugged at Tim.

"What led you to hitchhiking?" Tim asked.

Sam looked annoyed but answered, "Nothing left for me in my own town, but the second transmission on my Chevy died and I couldn't afford another car or even another trannie. I had to get out somehow."

"Your town?"

"In Ohio." His tone said that he wouldn't get any more detailed than that.

"You're in Illinois now."

"I would fucking hope so."

He must have been out on the roads for a while. His sun-streaked hair and sunburn/tan corroborated that story.

Ravi would laugh at him scoping Sam out. Or have been jealous.

Ravi needn't have worried, since Sam wasn't sociable and Tim needed people who spoke. Even sleeping, the hitchhiker looked worn out. Sam's head drooped as he slept, showing more trust than Tim would have expected given his unfriendly and nearly feral demeanor. How tired was he to do that now? Again, something about him sleeping sitting in the passenger seat, arms crossed, head down and hair hiding his face somewhat, triggered a rush of familiarity. It felt... right.

Tim had been getting a lot of that lately, but so far it had led only to good things.

His cell phone played its ringtone music, and Ravi had put "Brick House" on it this time. Tim would have to remember to set it back to "Für Elise." Catchy, though. "Hello?"

"Timmeh. You have to tell Goku that you don't have anyone with you because he is spazzing out," Ravi said.

"How is he spazzing out?"

"Going on about this guy who's supposedly riding with you. Hey! Stop--"

Suddenly Goku's voice could be heard over the phone. "You have to bring him to us in Chicago. You have to." He sounded nearly desperate.

How odd. "I can hardly kidnap him."

In the background Tim could vaguely hear Ravi ask, "He _does_ have someone with him? How the hell did you know that?" Tim wondered the same.

"Where does he want to go?" Goku asked.

"West. Just west."

Goku laughed. "West. That's-- You have to bring him here. Chicago is west of where he started, right?"

"West and significantly north."

"He'll deal. I have to see him, Tim."

"Why?"

"Why did you pick him up, Tim?"

"I..." Tim groped for his thought. "I had to."

"Yeah."

Goku rarely asked for much, and he'd helped save Tim's life. And taking Sam to Goku and Ravi somehow seemed right too. Insanity. But insanity had been rewarding lately.

At least he wouldn't be stealing a minor across state lines, since they wouldn't be leaving Illinois. Sam was so quiet and familiar in the passenger seat, and he was a kid needing help.... "All right."

"Yes! Thanks!"

"Gimme back the phone," Ravi growled, then said to Tim, "You picked up a hitchhiker? After I took so much trouble saving your ass?"

"Yes. I'm ungratefully spiting you by putting my ass on the line again. This time by picking up skinny blond kids. Well, just one skinny blond kid."

"He could have a knife, Hero."

"Goku wants to see him."

"Goku doesn't always play with a full deck."

"It's sweet that you worry."

"Oh, shut up."

"Don't worry. I won't tell anyone. I wouldn't want to ruin your reputation."

"Better not. I like being disreputable. Bad enough I'm dating a college professor...."

"Horrors. You might learn something."

"I've been teaching you plenty of things lately," Ravi purred.

Tim really did want to see him again soon. "We'll see who teaches whom."

"You get me all hot with the educated talk. See you soon. Don't trust the kid."

Tim didn't have to trust the kid or not, since Sam slept all the way and didn't wake until he parked the car in front of his building. Ravi and Goku stood at the door. Actually, Ravi stood while Goku approached the car at a fast walk.

Sam tensed as soon as his eyes opened. "Where are we?"

"Chicago."

Sam's eyes widened, then he snarled, "I said 'west'!"

"This is west. And north."

"You freak!" Sam opened the door and threw himself and his backpack out of it with a speed that stunned Tim. The boy was fast.

Goku was faster, grabbing Sam by the arm and spinning him around. Sam pulled a gun out, and Tim stopped breathing.

Goku _grinned_ and knocked it away while still keeping his hold on the boy. "Sanzo! You don't know how long--"

"You!" Sam shouted. "Your fucking voice! You're the one!"

"Yes!"

Tim had never believed in spontaneous human combustion but wondered if he might actually see Sam explode. Ravi looked like he didn't know whether he wanted to try to get between Sam and Goku or not.

Goku might have surprising strength but didn't look like much really, being all long, ropey muscle and tendon. He was in his early 20s but seemed younger, irrepressible. By looks, Sam should have been knocked down by a strong wind, but he too seemed to have a deceptive strength. They were about the same height, which wasn't much, maybe 5'8. But the tension between them vibrated and might explode into violence.

Sam had been carrying a gun the whole time.

But he hadn't had a knife.

"You asshole!" Sam shouted. "Do you know how fucking crazy you make me? 'Come find me! Come west!' Do you know how many years they had me on medication? No, of course you don't, you fucker! Give me my gun back! Give me my arm back!"

Inexplicably, Goku said, "Sanzo, I'm hungry."

"Urusai!" Sam shouted, then went pale. The fight abruptly left him. "I--"

Smiling, Goku pulled him in closer, to let him lean on him. "It'll be better. I'll feed you and put you to bed, and everything will feel much better."

"My name is 'Sam,' not 'Sanzo,' and I'm not going anywhere with you. I don't need anything, I don't need y--"

"I'll give you your gun back."

"You're a fucking freak."

"It's okay. You know who I am this time."

"Yeah, I know. You're a freak who's somehow fucking with my head."

"You know who I am. You just don't know you know yet. You'll be much stronger after a good meal."

Sam looked as confused as Tim felt but far more tired. He finally asked, "Food?"

"Yeah! Food. I'll give you back your gun after you eat. I won't be as annoying in your head now that you're here and I don't have to be."

"All right. But if you try anything I'll make you pay. You're lucky I don't deck you for whining at me for years."

"Sure!" Goku walked away with Sam leaning heavily on him.

"What was that?" Tim asked.

"You think I know?" Ravi answered.

"You work with Goku."

"Yeah, but with Goku it's always a matter of scratching the weirdness to find even more weird under it. Good guy, though. I don't think you have to worry about him molesting Blondie."

"Goku doesn't seem like the molesting type."

Ravi ran his hand through his short hair, providing an interesting ripple of black, candy apple red, black, candy apple red, black.... "Unlike me, huh?"

"I _want_ you to molest me."

Ravi kissed him. With tongue. "Good thing for both of us that I like doing it, huh?"

  


* * *

Sanzo didn't eat with a great appetite, but Goku got enough food into him to feel better about things. Thankfully, he'd gotten to Sanzo pretty early this life. Hakkai and Gojyo often had nice lives, but Sanzo rarely died of natural causes at an old age. He kept being orphaned again and again and went through plagues, wars, famines. He often died alone. He was imprisoned for his bad attitude or burned as a witch or institutionalized. He'd even been "martyred" once, although Sanzo probably wouldn't have called it that when it had happened. Annunciata had only become a nun to get an education and get away from the thug her parents had intended to marry her to.

The townspeople had been so stunned that a nun, even one they called "The Iron Abbess," had been able to kill 10 attackers with only a large crucifix. Her diversion and sacrifice had given the local people time to get reinforcements to save the town and convent. Last time Goku had been through that part of Italy, he'd found out that St. Annunciata's feast day was still celebrated.

He hadn't been in time to save her because they wouldn't let him stay near the convent. By the time he found out about the attack, it had been too late.

Sanzo's life as a cat had been peaceful, happy, and long, at least for a cat. Goku had been able to keep him out of trouble completely that time at least. It hadn't been very satisfying that Sanzo couldn't talk back to him by voice or mind in that form, though. But he had given Goku dirty looks every time Goku had jokingly called him "Tama."

Sam was still young. He'd obviously come out of a troubled past, but he was alive and eating at Goku's table.

And he was highly sensitive. Sanzo often had paranormal senses in his lives, something that contributed to his bad temper and tendency to be revered as a sage or hunted as a witch or demon. In this time they'd apparently just medicated him, which had stopped Goku from feeling him for years.

He'd thought Sanzo had died again....

But they were together now! Still, the sensitivity worked for Goku in that Sanzo _knew_ him somewhat already, but it could be dangerous to Sanzo. Magic seemed to be disappearing from the world--Goku had felt some of his power fading over the last three centuries and seen it happening around him--yet Sanzo's psychic senses, life after life, became more and more acute in a body and world less and less capable of containing them.

Sanzo's last self had been institutionalized, his body and health strained by what he saw and heard, with psychiatric drugs only slightly effective against them. Ironically, he was murdered by an inmate convinced that Sanzo was a god, when Sanzo hadn't actually been a god in several centuries. Goku had taken a job as an orderly there, yet that day he'd been assigned too far from Sanzo to help, and he'd almost broken his limiter when he felt Sanzo die in his mind.

Again.

Sometimes Goku wondered if Kanzeon Bosatsu interfered. He couldn't tell whether Sanzo had been joking when he said that he had such horrible fortune in his lives as a punishment for being bored once. Goku hadn't seen hir in over a century, but if he could find hir he'd... he didn't know what he'd do, what could possibly express his rage.

Now Goku had another chance to save Sanzo, early this time. Sam had abilities too and taken medication for a while, although for him medication worked. Goku would have to watch to see if he could handle being off it. If the visions and knowledge started to tear Sanzo apart again, Goku would intervene. He refused to be helpless another time.

And Sam had blond hair and long, slim fingers that held a gun or cigarettes exactly the way they should. The eyes were hazel and occasionally green instead of purple, and the face was a bit different, but the general effect was so close to _him_ that Goku's heart hurt looking at him. It made Goku feel centuries younger. Damn, that "shut up" had felt like coming home.

"Take a picture. It'll last longer." Sanzo lit up a Marlboro. "So I'm here. What the hell did you want from me that you had to keep pulsing that vague 'Go west!' at me?"

Goku went for the truth. "I missed you."

Sanzo let out a disgusted stream of smoke. "We never met before."

"We keep meeting over and over."

"I'm Catholic. I don't believe in that shit."

"You know me. You hear things."

"I'm crazy. Ask my fucking uncle."

"You _hear_ things. You know things."

Sanzo closed his eyes. "I'm not having this conversation."

"Why else did you sleep so well in Tim's car?"

"I know _him_ too? Please."

"Him and Ravi. And the Dragon. Well, his name is actually 'Bob' in this life but he owns the bar and I still call him 'the Dragon.' Or 'Boss.'"

"Wonderful. Anyone else?"

"Me, Tim, and Ravi are the most important ones."

"And what am I supposed to do?"

"Live with us. Be happy." Goku almost winced at his words. It sounded so childish put like that, no matter how true the sentiments. Sanzo would sneer.

Sanzo did sneer.

Goku continued, "Is this worse than what you had back home?"

"I don't have a home. I'm attached to nothing." He took a deep breath in on his cigarette, making the tip flare orange. "Nobody does anything for free. What do you want?"

"Help me make the rent, and you can live here." Goku had learned how to hoard money long ago and didn't really need the help, but Sanzo distrusted a free ride. Always had.

"That's it? You called me across several hundred miles because you needed a roommate?"

"Yep."

"Give me my gun back. You promised."

Goku handed it over, certain that he could dodge if he had to. Sam couldn't be as good or fast with it as Sanzo had been, not when Sanzo had the instincts hardwired into his body from years of use. This one was too young and too soft.

Sanzo left it on the table near his hand, then said, "I'm not good company. I have a bad temper. Everything rubs me wrong."

Goku had to smile. "I know."

"Right. 'Course you do. Because we've been roommates over and over again, forever."

"In a way." Goku put out his hand to shake. "I'm Goku Son."

"Son Goku."

Goku had a lump in his throat. "Yeah, but not in this country."

Sanzo stared at Goku's outstretched hand, then clasped it with his own. "Samuel Wojnarowski."

"What?"

"Shut up. I'm Sam. Not Sanzo. And I'm going to use your shower."

"Sure. If you're going to be living here, you'll have to."

Sanzo... Sam shot him an annoyed look, then walked away with great dignity.

It was just like being home.

  


* * *

"Ravi, come back to bed," Tim murmured. Sable hair totally mussed, body covered only by one thin sheet, he looked hot and dazed and molestable.

But.... "Can't. I have to see how Goku's doing."

"You're not going over there."

"Is that an order, sir?"

"You're walking around naked."

"It's too bad for Chicago that I'm not walking out naked, but I'm sure it'll make you happier. Your casa is my casa. Same goes for your phone. I'm going to call Goku to make sure Blondie hasn't killed him. Goku's kind of like a weird little brother to me, and we left him with some gun-toting, half-wild kid you picked up off the road."

"You're actually very sweet."

"Don't say that so loud!"

"Fine. You're callous and unfeeling. Come back to bed when you're ready." Tim emphatically rolled over, turning his back, although in a playful instead of annoyed way.

"Don't turn your ass to me unless you want me to do something with it."

"I live in hope."

"Sneaky bastard. I'm making my call before you try to tempt me anymore."

"Whatever."

Ravi loved Tim, much as it made him feel hopelessly mushy to admit it. _His_ guy, whom he'd found in an alley bleeding into the trash, heroic and stupid. First much older guy he dated who didn't want to do some twisted daddy dom thing to him. Ravi owned his daddy issues, thanks.

Tim might be blasé about what had happened today, but Ravi couldn't be. It had been so freaky the way Goku had known about the hitchhiker and how the hitchhiker almost seemed to know him back. But maybe the kid wasn't really a stranger. Since Ravi kept feeling familiar with the kid, maybe the kid had come by sometime and Ravi had seen him then.

Like hell.

Anyway, Ravi needed to call. "Hey, Goku."

"Hey, Ravi."

"I guess you're still alive if you can answer the phone."

"He wouldn't hurt me," Goku answered, sounding so damned amused.

"He's a mixed-up kid with a gun, and you're not immortal."

"Right."

"Do you need me to go over there and rearrange your face?"

"Not really. So I'm fine. Hey, could you check in on Sam tomorrow since I have to work? Just to make sure he's okay."

Ravi didn't bother to ask Goku if he trusted the kid not to steal anything because he obviously did. Goku could come off as spacey, but he didn't really need a keeper. "I'll check, but I'm not gonna wipe his ass for him or anything."

"I thought you were into that, with the right person."

"You're funny."

"Bye, Ravi."

"Yeah, yeah."

"You _are_ a sucker," Tim said from the bed.

"You ever hate being right all the time? Does it ever get old?"

"Never."

  


* * *

Before Goku went out to work, he stopped at Sanzo's side and watched him sleep for a few minutes. He looked so young. He looked so _him_. Goku couldn't help feeling that if Sam hadn't trusted him he wouldn't still be sleeping, given his paranoia and hair-trigger nerves. In some things, Sanzo never changed.

Goku felt warm and full. He wanted to be here when... Sam woke up. But he had a job and responsibilities, even if those responsibilities involved getting people drunk. It still amazed him that he had a _job_, but still....

He turned away and left, happier knowing he had someone special to come home to.

  


* * *

Despite the crappy fold-out couch, Sam slept late and well. It confused him, because being inside and in a bed didn't automatically mean he'd be able to rest. But he felt comfortable here.

At least he didn't have that guy talking in his head constantly anymore, even though he still got little bits and pieces, really faint, that didn't compare to the "Come find me, come west, come get me, where _are_ you?" Sam had been trying to tune out for the last three months since his final prescription ran out. He still had enough of that link on to know that Goku had left for work before he even found the note.

Living here in the near-quiet could be better than trying to find a way to afford the meds, which Sam hadn't even liked. They left him feeling so stupidly mellow and wrapped in thick cotton. Life with the edges sanded off hadn't felt like life.

Goku kept his fridge really well stocked. As Sam sipped orange juice he made toast and bacon. Nice to have food he didn't have to beg for, steal, or kill. He fucking hated rabbits.

Shouldn't get too used to having things, though. Things never lasted.

So he had a place for the moment. Now he needed a job. College would have been nice but wouldn't happen.

When Sam heard keys turning in the door, he felt outward a bit. Much as he hated it a lot of times, this whatever-he-had had gotten him away from trouble sometimes. Not Goku out there, but not unfamiliar either. He didn't know, so he sat on the kitchen chair that faced the door and set his gun on his lap, ready to pull the trigger.

When the door opened, the tall, slutty-looking Indian guy with black and red hair Sam had seen yesterday paused in the doorway. "You have your gun aimed at me, don't you, you little psycho."

Sam didn't let his surprise show. "So you know not to try anything."

"Never stopped me before. You're making yourself at home pretty quickly."

"Goku won't mind. I'll be living here after all."

Sam's smirk only deepened at the look on the guy's face and the "Say what?"

"I'm his new roommate."

"Is he supporting you now?"

"I'll get a job."

"Doing what?"

"I'll figure it out."

"Yeah, that fills me with confidence. You're 18 and from the middle of nowhere. Maybe Chicago's fast food underworld will welcome you, but I doubt you have any other talents. Unless you're gonna sell your ass on the street. Don't need much talent for that. With your looks, you might get johns who could ignore your attitude."

Unfortunately, the guy's assessment of Sam's job skills was pretty close, but Sam didn't have to let him know that. "Do you have PMS, or are you always this pleasant?" He'd done some construction and renovation work too, so maybe he might look into that, since he didn't want to work a grill or fryer again and didn't have the right attitude to be a cashier. "Yeah, what do you do for a living, genius? Go-go dancing, bartending, selling your ass?"

"Bartender. But I have a degree."

"Guess they'll take anyone these days. In what, philosophy? Bachelor's." Sam smirked at the way the guy's mouth twitched. The ability to pull information out of thin air could be damned useful, even though it had led to people forever asking him to find their books, keys, or remote controls. He learned to dread laundry days because his aunt would always ask him to hunt down missing socks. "You really wanted to piss your parents off, didn't you? At least you still have yours. At least they can be proud of your brother and his career in information technology."

"At least I don't have to worry about bartending being outsourced to India, like that isn't damned ironic! You--" The guy gaped. "When the hell did I wander into a Stephen King novel?"

"You can always leave and let me be weird by myself."

"What's your name?"

That came out of nowhere. "Huh?"

"I want to know the name of the guy sponging off of Goku."

"I'm not sponging."

"Yeah, yeah. Your name."

Whatever. "Samuel Wojnarowski."

"Woj-- What?"

"Like your family name isn't several syllables long."

"It's 'Sharma.' Ravi Sharma," he answered with a superior smirk.

Shit. It _would_ be that short. "Whatever."

"Great comeback."

"If you can't remember my name, you can't use it for whatever bizarre thing you had in mind for it."

Now Ravi looked pissed. Good.

Sam didn't want to be bothered anymore. "You checked in on me, I'm still alive, and none of the silverware is stolen. You can go now. I'm gonna be going out to look for a job soon anyway."

"Yeah. So you're fine, and I'm out of here." And he left, obviously angry and freaked out.

Sam used to get a lot of satisfaction out of freaking people out, but that was a long time ago. He kept doing it anyway because he was an idiot. Annoyed with himself, he started figuring out where he'd go to put job applications in. Given his age, level of education, and total lack of contacts, he probably _would_ be asking if people wanted fries with that.

Goku had left him a newspaper, so maybe he could check the Help Wanted before going out. Maybe he wouldn't have to go the "do you want to supersize that?" route. Happy that no one was around to see him with his dorky, thick-framed reading glasses, Sam put them on and started flipping through pages.

  


* * *

"I'm home," Ravi said and gave his honey a kiss. He'd miss doing that when Tim started to work full-time again.

"Did you get what I asked for?"

"Yeah, I heard the kid's name. Unfortunately, it's some long, twisted Polish thing I can't remember quite right. Good luck on spelling it too. It's like 'Wojna-something-or-other.'" But then Tim grabbed him and kissed him, and the name tumbled right out afterward: "Wojnarowski. How the hell did you get me to do that? And you better not do it with your students."

The professor looked very smug. "Only the ones I really like."

And people called _him_ a tease. "Hmph. What do you need his name for, anyway?"

"I'll tell you if it works out." Tim had that "This may be slightly evil but it's actually in your best interests, heh heh" look on his face that always did alarming things to Ravi's heart rate. He'd always liked his guys to be at least a little bit dangerous.

Maybe Tim was trying to find a way to make Blondie more self-supporting. Ravi didn't worry about the kid sending Goku into bankruptcy, since Goku had a lot of disposable cash from somewhere, but he didn't want Goku to be taken advantage of.

  


* * *

Goku sat on his favorite spot in Chicago, a branch of the largest tree he'd found here, and grinned as he let his legs swing. People kept making fun of him at work all day for how happy he looked but he couldn't care, not when he had Sanzo again.

"You gotta stop doing that happy dance thing." Sam stood at the foot of the tree staring up at Goku. "Or I swear I'll deck you."

Speaking of.... "Happy dance?"

"In my head I keep getting this 'happy happy, joy joy' thing from you. It feels like dancing around, like you're fucking shaking your booty. I keep reacting to it so people keep looking at me strangely. So stop it."

"I didn't think I was doing anything."

Right now Sam's eyes had the color of faded summer leaves, like an originally dark green bleached by the sun to a lighter shade. Sam's time walking the roads had left sun-bleached blond streaks of varying shades in his hair, while Sanzo's had somehow stayed golden through years of travel, only getting bleached bits as they reached India. It still amazed Goku that the very pale-skinned Sanzo hadn't caught fire during all the time they'd traveled through deserts.

As Sanzo's hair had silvered, Gojyo couldn't help making more "old man" jokes and getting beaten and nearly shot to death for them. Sanzo had claimed that Gojyo and Goku were making him go white.

"Hmph." Instead of yelling at Goku to get down, Sam climbed the tree and found a nearby branch of his own to sit on. Sam liked to climb trees! "What are you doing up here, anyway?" As he sat he swung his legs a little, making the laces on his beaten-up combat boots sway.

"I like the view, and people can't bother me."

"I get that." Sam took a shiny red apple out of his backpack and took a big, juicy bite out of it.

That looked so good, and Goku was so _hungry_.... "That looks really tasty."

"I got it from your kitchen." Sam kept eating. "I'll pay you back if anyone ever hires me. My writing hand's cramped from all the damned applications."

"You can pay me back now by giving me some of that apple."

"You should have gotten dinner somewhere."

"But I didn't, and you're right here with an apple." Taunting him with the vision of firm, juicy flesh and Sam's mouth and white teeth working on it.... Goku didn't really think. He jumped over to Sam's branch and... kind of tried to take apple bits out of Sam's mouth. Eyes closed, Goku just tasted and felt, tasted sweet apple and bitter cigarettes and felt Sanzo stiffen against him in surprise--it _felt_ like Sanzo!--then relax a little, sweet, before clenching up again. Warm and alive and there and _young_....

Goku opened his eyes to see Sam staring at him wide-eyed. Yeah. Because Goku had just come up in his face and tried to clean the inside of his mouth. Still sat just about groin to groin with him now.

"Uhm," Goku said.

"I'm not paying for the apartment like... that. I'm not like that," Sam finally said, though he still looked stunned. "And I'm not letting you eat food out of my mouth either."

Eating food out of his love's mouth sounded like the most erotic thing ever to Goku--Sanzo always had great ideas--but he had to focus because what Sam was saying was important. "Sorry. I was really hungry and just about raised by wolves."

"Uh-huh."

Somewhat panicked, Goku said, "I don't want you to do anything you don't want to do!"

"Can you prove it by getting the fuck off of me!" It sounded part Sanzo, part panic.

"Yeah! Sorry." Goku jumped back to his own branch. As Sam climbed back down the tree, Goku said, "You don't have to go. I'll behave!"

"Leave me alone for a while! I'll show up at the apartment when I feel like it."

Goku didn't want to leave him alone but figured that hanging on to him wouldn't help here. Shit. He'd have to give Sam some time.

Goku knew better and had gotten less impulsive over the years but seeing the most Sanzo-like Sanzo he'd had since forever had made him go all stupid kid. Still, Sam had liked it for a moment; Goku could swear to it. He'd moved much too quickly into Sam's personal space, but he had a talent for wearing Sanzo down.

Though he usually dealt with a lot of yelling and hitting before the wearing down went into full effect.

Shit. He needed to talk to Hakkai and Gojyo. They had a gift for steadying him.

  


* * *

Yeah, Sam had really needed his life to get more surreal. Fuck.

He couldn't say that past lives might not exist, not considering what _he_ could do. His ability or whatever might not provide proof of past lives, but it didn't go too far or deep into things. He'd taken Mom's rosary beads because they'd felt like her, but the longer he had them the less they felt like her and the more they felt like him. Grandpa's dog tags had shown Sam all kinds of interesting places once but now they also tasted more of Sam than of Grandpa. Hopefully keeping the gun over time would layer more of him over it so he wouldn't get any more tastes of that bastard trucker he'd taken it from.

Probably. Life seemed to be all about laying new stuff over the old until the old vanished and was forgotten. At least so Sam hoped, since somebody had to have found the corpse by now. It wasn't like he could hide the man's truck that well. He didn't actually dare carry the gun around much since any cop who got a hold of it would trace it back to that corpse. When he'd walked the roads as a runaway he could have said he carried a gun for protection, but he doubted that would fly in Chicago for a kid with a steady home.

It might have been safer and smarter to clean off the gun and drop it in a river somewhere a long way back, but once he had it, he couldn't let it go. It spoke to something inside him, which was weird since his experience was with rifles, not handguns.

Killing a person had been surprisingly easy, dealing with it and fucking up the evidence much less so.

Anyway, maybe Sam had known Goku from some time before and just couldn't see that far back.

But he really doubted that anybody he'd ever been would let someone lick food out of his mouth.

He'd been kind of kissed by a guy, which wasn't anything like what that trucker had tried and Sam had killed him for. Sam didn't know what to think of it, having passed up most experience in kissing. Girls had been willing, and there hadn't been much to do in his small backwater town aside from drink, get high, and/or fuck, but he just hadn't wanted anyone that close to him. He didn't want or need anybody.

He should probably be worried that he didn't feel utterly repulsed right now. Did some past him and Goku--

Not worth thinking about.

  


* * *

Tim had never played cards so much in his life before meeting Ravi, which only made Ravi crazier that he won so often. It was cute. Card games had more applications than Tim had previously realized. For example, right now Goku had come to them to play a game but really wanted to talk... casually. It was easier to be offhand when everyone had a hand of cards to look at and strategy to work on.

"I'm surprised the kid isn't with you," Ravi said.

"He needed some time alone," Goku said as he ran his free hand through his long spiky brown hair. Sometimes Tim swore he could see a small glint of gold-colored metal in it near his face, but then hair covered it again.

"What did you do to him?"

"Nothing! He's just--"

"Sensitive and touchy, but that doesn't explain why you're upset, so spill."

"I kissed him."

Ravi laughed. "You move fast."

"Too fast!"

"Duh, monkey boy. How was he?"

"Pervert."

"Him?"

"You! And it was just a kiss. Kind of a kiss."

"How could it be 'kind of a kiss'?" Tim had to ask.

"I was tonguing bits of apple out of his mouth."

Ravi almost exploded with shock and evil glee. "And you call _me_ a freak?"

"You _are_ a freak!"

"So how was he?"

Goku's expression softened. "Sweet before he freaked out."

Ravi smiled fondly. "I wondered what he'd be like without the snapping defenses and fear. Nice."

"You're a romantic," Tim answered. He _was_.

"I like people to be happy. That's why I became a bartender."

"You sacrifice yourself nobly."

"Don't wanna hear about it, Timmeh. So the suicide blond can be sweet. Cool. Goku, you got to work on him carefully so you can be like me and the professor. Having your own guy has all kinds of benefits." Ravi grabbed Tim and sat him on his lap. "Like cuddling and petting and kissing and...."

"I don't think Sam's the type," Goku answered.

"I'm not quite the type either," Tim said as he tried to evade Ravi's tickling hands. Bastard. He'd never live down Ravi finding his ticklish spots. Ravi couldn't remember garbage days but his memory for weak spots and embarrassing moments was second to none.

"Anyway, Goku," Ravi said while Tim tried to get off his lap, "you couldn't help yourself. I mean, if you've known Blondie in other lives you remember, of course you're gonna get personal with him quickly. You know him. Problem is that he doesn't know you. Also, that he carries a gun."

"You're not just making fun of me, are ya? I'd have to smack you if you were."

"Your whole thing about knowing him in a past life is weird, but you're weird, so okay. It's just him you knew?"

Goku suddenly looked much more interested in his cards. "Actually, I knew you guys too."

Surprised, Tim stopped struggling to get away from his too exuberant lover, while Ravi smiled. "So, what, have Tim and me always been joined at the hip too?"

"Just about. You're a pervert, so even when you're just friends it's friends with benefits."

"And some people say I'm fickle."

Tim tried to imagine it, life upon life upon life. With Ravi showing up at his side as his partner at some point in one form or another. Tim couldn't quite believe in the concept of reincarnation, endless chances to get things right or wrong, but if it meant a small eternity of comfortable, happy moments like he'd known lately, he wanted to. He'd felt something missing in his life until Ravi had shown up in that alley.

"I like Sam," Goku said suddenly. "Usually I don't get to him before he's old or bitter or trapped in some position of authority where he's not allowed to be free. Right now he's... young and he hasn't gotten too trapped in some idea of dignity or responsibility yet. I'm really happy about that."

"He seems like the type who makes things harder on himself," Ravi said.

"It's part him and part life. I want to give him a good life."

"I don't think Sam's the type who's okay with being a kept boy. And _I_ would kick your ass if you kept him like that."

"You could try."

Tim hoped to make Sam's life better. It depended on what his research and contacts turned up. His wound recuperation time while away from Ravi was so dull that he welcomed having a project.

Sam opened the door at that moment and said, "You're talking about me."

"You're an egotistical little bastard," Ravi replied.

"Doesn't make me wrong."

"Are we okay?" Goku asked, suddenly seeming much younger.

"Yeah. Just don't jump me again." Sam looked comfortable among them, as if he'd known them for a long time instead of since just yesterday.

"Are you hungry? I could make something."

"I'm never eating an apple in front of you again."

"Something else!"

"Make something for me too," Ravi said.

"I'm not feeding you," Goku answered.

"You're feeding him."

"He's too skinny."

"Food is love?" Ravi asked with a smirk.

"I told you not to push--" Goku stood up. "I'm gonna kick your ass!"

Ravi also stood up, which finally freed Tim from his octopus clutches and restless hands. There was a time and place for restless hands. "You and what army, chimp?"

They could be such boys sometimes. Their playful spats could cause some damage, though.

To Tim's amusement, Sam smacked the backs of their heads hard with a thick, rolled-up magazine and said, "I'm allergic to idiocy, so quit it."

"What the hell was that?" Ravi asked.

"_Home Cooking_. It has a nice heft."

"I can't believe you _hit_ me."

"You were being an idiot. If it's such a big fucking deal, I'll make my own dinner." When Sam turned away to walk to the kitchen, Tim noticed a huge grin break out on Goku's face and saw it disappear when Sam turned again to face them to wave a butter knife at them. "I'm making a tomato sandwich. You want one, Goku, Tim?"

"I'll have a sandwich!" Goku said.

"What about me?" Ravi asked.

"You don't deserve a sandwich," Sam said with a smirk.

"I checked on you this morning."

"To insult me. Do you even really want a tomato sandwich?"

"He's allergic to tomatoes," Tim had to say.

"Oh. Now I _have to_ make him a tomato sandwich."

"Funny kid," Ravi said. "Are you gonna be able to taste any tomatoes with all that mayonnaise you're slathering on?"

"I like mayonnaise."

Anyone who knew Ravi knew that he flirted and ogled because they were like breathing to him, essential to his existence. He couldn't help his reaction to people he considered beautiful, and Tim accepted it. After all, Ravi might appreciate others, but once he settled with someone into an actual relationship, he _settled down_. Goku had confirmed it. But Ravi's appreciative looks at Sam didn't seem like the usual ones, nor did the teasing. There was something different and _more_ there.

Goku said that he'd known Ravi and Tim before and that Tim and Ravi had known each other. Did that mean that they'd all known _Sam_ in the past? Was there history there?

Tim resolved not to be suspicious or jealous. But he would watch carefully.

Sam _was_ attractive in his scruffy and almost feral way. Tim could understand Ravi's fascination, although Tim would feel the need to groom and care for the boy a bit before he'd try anything.

Oh. He was thinking of trying something. That gave him less moral high ground on Ravi.

"Ravi, don't use the beer cans as ashtrays," Tim said.

"Eep. Sorry."

"You have him trained," Sam said, which made Ravi growl.

"But it never lasts," Goku answered.

Sam made an excellent sandwich, though a lot of it was that Goku bought excellent food. They played a few more rounds of poker, Sam included, with Ravi occasionally whining comically about how _hungry_ he was and Sam wondering aloud if tomato allergies could make a guy's tongue swell and eyes bug out.

Eventually, Sam asked, "Why the hell do you play if Tim wins 98% of the time?" as he pushed his small pile of pretzel sticks toward Tim.

"Tradition," Goku answered.

"I want to put him on one of those cable poker shows. He'd win big," Ravi said.

"I get the feeling that my luck would change if I used it for crass commercial purposes," Tim said with a small smile.

"There's nothing crass about money and fame!"

"I have to differ."

"You would."

"At least we're not playing for money," Sam muttered.

"True," Tim answered, "and I share my winnings. I wouldn't want to be a pig. Besides, you don't need to see my pile of winnings to know that I'm whipping your asses. It's obvious."

"Yeah, but you only share the pretzels. I want M&amp;Ms."

"I save those for Ravi and myself."

"See what putting out gets you?" Ravi said with a grin as he lit up another clove cigarette and offered a light to Sam. Sam leaned in close with his cigarette in his mouth to get it, then said, "If I'm not putting out to pay the rent, I'm sure as hell not putting out for a few M&amp;Ms."

Goku nearly choked on a pretzel stick.

  


* * *

As they walked through the hallway to his apartment, Ravi had to ask, "What do you think about that whole past lives thing?"

"It seems unlikely, although Sam certainly is surprisingly comfortable with us already. Anyway, it would be difficult to prove," Tim answered.

"Goku has enough weirdness swimming around him that it seems more likely, don't ya think?"

Tim smiled. "Maybe."

"It's... when I saw you in that alley.... I don't know. I just know that I couldn't let you go. And I've never been much for fighting, but I kicked ass like I'd been doing it all my life. That suggests something maybe." The thought of the two of them hooking up together, hopefully being this happy together, life after life gave Ravi a warm kind of feeling.

"Maybe."

"It's not much of a conversation when one person's doing all the talking."

"I feel like I've known you my whole life," Tim said quietly. "And that it's a good thing. Yet it feels new too, doesn't it?"

"Yeah." If past lives did exist, it didn't seem to get rid of that first rush of new love/lust between them. Thank God.

"I don't have any answers for this."

"Me neither."

Tim pressed Ravi against the door, body to body. "I wonder if the sex has always been this good?"

"C'mon, Professor, it's _me_."

"...I wonder if you've always been such an egotist."

"I wonder if you've always been such a tease. I wonder if I'll get fucked tonight."

"_That_ I can answer. Yes."

Ravi grinned. "Thank God."

"Thank me."

"Now's who the egotist?"

  


* * *

Sam wondered why the hell you always had to spend money before you could start making money. He'd just bought a tie, two pairs of pants, two nice dress shirts, and dress shoes in case tomorrow's appointment at the temp agency led to something. He could type and use a computer and knew his alphabet, so maybe he could find something that paid better than minimum wage.

It had to be better than Starbucks, where he was putting in an application now. He couldn't help thinking that if he got hired he'd snap one day and start yelling, "It's just fucking coffee!" It'd probably happen within the first week.

A woman nearby babbled on her cell phone about some missing report her boss was going to kill her over. Did he want to have the petty problems of her life assaulting his ears? Hell no. He hated cell phone users, the exhibitionists.

An image of the ugliest, kitschiest paperweight ever hit his mind. He looked down to see that his pen had skidded within the box for his most recent job experience. She'd made him mess up his application a bit. Yes, hire him, the applicant prone to seizures. That was just what you wanted in someone who served you scalding hot coffee.

"--and I don't know what I'll doooooo," she loudly whined.

"The Johnson report is under that ugly frog paperweight on your desk," Sam snarled. "You didn't see it because you put some recent statements over it. Now will you shut up?"

She blinked at him, then asked, "How the hell do you know what's on my desk?" Anyone who hadn't started staring at them after he spoke had their attention grabbed now.

"I'm psychic," he snapped, tossed his application in the trash, and walked out, seeing no point in submitting it now. Seeing no point in submitting applications anywhere else today, not while he had this expression on his face, he put his headphones on and blasted music to try to drown out anything invading his head during his walk home.

Almost as soon as he walked into the apartment the phone rang. Goku told him he could and should answer calls since he lived there and had various applications in everywhere, so he picked up. "Hello?"

"Blondie, we may have a gig for you tonight," Ravi said.

"I would sooner bite off my tongue and swallow it than let you be my pimp."

"You're cute. Love you too. Nah, come down to the Fifty-eight." After a sudden murmur, the voice switched to Goku's. "It'll be cool, Sam," Goku said. "You'll see."

"I'm underage."

"So we won't let you drink or smoke in public. We have a good idea, and it will help us and you."

The phone call must have come now because Goku had felt him come home, the thought of which gave Sam the shudders, but he said, "Fine. I'm coming. Let me grab dinner first."

"Nah, we'll feed you! The Fifty-eight has a great brick oven for pizza."

"All right."

Goku met him at the door to the Fifty-eight with a big grin and a slice of pizza on a paper plate and let him inside. As Sam ate his pizza he approved of the lounge's dimness and look of broken-in comfort. It didn't have the clutter of kitsch that tainted a lot of places these days. Ravi stood behind the bar looking as if he'd been born there, while Tim sat nearby.

"You didn't tell me he was a kid," a wiry white-haired guy who was maybe in his 50s said. Sam didn't underestimate him, remembering how his mellow grandfather could still kick people's asses.

"Sam's an old soul," Ravi said.

"Has he done anything like this before?"

"Not as an act per se."

"We're doomed. This is gonna be as stupid an idea as the one that made you strip on my bar that night."

"It was a bet!"

"It was a disaster that could have gotten me shut down!" Had to be Bob, then, the boss.

"I'm not stripping," Sam said.

"No, no, Ravi thought you could do a kind of psychic act," Tim said. "The band scheduled for tonight had to break the date at the last moment."

"The band has a lead singer who can't handle his habit."

"How would you know that?" Bob asked.

"Psychic," Ravi drawled.

"Fine, he can say something like that all mysterioso, but can he do an _act_?"

"Define 'act,'" Sam had to say, disliking the sound of this more and more.

"I figure we get audience members to contribute an item--which we will provide a claim ticket for," Ravi said to forestall the old guy, "and our wonder boy will 'read' the item. Unless you're too intimidated to go on stage."

The thought of performing for a crowd sounded like the last thing he wanted to do, but he said, "I can do it. I'm just wondering if it's worth my while."

Bob shrugged. "No, it sounds far too cheesy. Besides, I don't know you and neither does Chicago. It's not like people are coming to see _you_. With the band I could have charged a cover, but not now."

"I can get people to pay for it," Ravi said. "Just watch me."

"I have confidence in both their abilities," Tim said to Bob.

"All right," Bob said. "I'll trust you, Tim, even if choosing Ravi shows that your sense of judgment isn't perfect."

"Hey!" Ravi protested.

"I get to see a side of Ravi you don't," Tim answered.

"I'm happy keeping it that way," Bob said.

Ravi struck a dramatic pose. "So cruel. But stick around, Sam. You'll be doing your routine in no time."

Sadly, he had nothing better to do with his time. "Fine."

"I'll keep you company," Tim said cheerily.

Bob put a bright orange plastic strip around Sam's wrist, prompting him to ask, "What the hell is this?"

"It shows that we know you're too young to drink, kid."

This day kept getting better. Taking over bar duties, Goku shot him a sympathetic look and handed him a cup of ice water.

  


* * *

Watching Ravi, Tim had to say that his boyfriend knew how to work a crowd, walking up to customers at their tables looking charming, friendly, and very attractive as he chatted them up. "He missed his calling."

"There are several street corners out there waiting for him," Sam answered as he ate a slice of pizza.

Irritated, Tim said, "You have a nasty mouth."

"I got a nastier mind."

"And an answer for everything."

"If I had an answer for everything, I wouldn't be sitting here waiting to see if your boyfriend can convince people to pay me to make a fool of myself."

"I won't tolerate you insulting him." To underscore his point, Tim ignored Sam after that, saying nothing further.

After a while, Sam asked, looking nearly forlorn yet angry with himself for it, "What if he insults me first?"

Tim remembered then how feral Sam had seemed that first day and thought of some of the teachers' notes included in his school transcripts. Highly intelligent but not well socialized had been the general consensus. Teachers had broadly hinted that his being an orphan grudgingly taken in by relatives didn't help. Tim also got the feeling that some pieces had been omitted from public record.

Tim relented. "_Then_ you have every right to strike back." He didn't want to leave the boy unarmed against Ravi anyway. Sam just needed structure.... "Have you thought about going to college?"

"On what, my good looks? I don't have any money."

"There are scholarships." Sam's grades hadn't been spectacular enough to attract most scholarships, but there were ways.

"Uncle said I was too blond to get most of them."

"Anyone ever tell your uncle he's a racist?"

"Since he used to smack me around for mouthing off, my guess is no." Sam's face took on a more stubborn set. "I got tired of fighting every day, so I stopped talking. I'll talk now, all right?"

Tim didn't know what to say to that disclosure and to what was both a challenge and an apology for Sam's nasty mouth. Finally he said, "Surely you had someone good back home."

"I lived with my grandpa for three years first. Great guy. He taught me to fish." Sam smirked. "Gave me my first taste of beer. That was his car I would have taken with me if the second transmission hadn't blown. He willed it to me, said whoever took care of me could use it until I reached the age where I could legally drive it myself."

A bribe so someone would take the boy in. "He was a good man."

"Yeah. I miss him." Sam glanced over his shoulder as Ravi pointed him out to another group. "I hate that."

"Not all attention is negative."

"A lot of it is."

Ten minutes later Ravi came up, beaming, to his boss and said, "I have a commitment for $75 from the crowd to see our boy wonder amaze them for an hour. This one chick in particular was really hot to see him do his thing. Good enough?"

"$55 of it would have to be mine," his boss answered.

Sam didn't look happy but finally said, "I'll do it for $20. One hour or until the items run out, whichever comes first?"

"Yeah."

"All right. But I won't be the one taking money and items from the crowd."

"Leave it all to me," Ravi said.

"I'd be scared to hear that too," Goku said.

Ravi quickly set everything up, grinning so widely all the while that Tim wondered if he had mischief in mind. Silly question. When Sam stepped up onto the stage, Ravi introduced him with "As promised, here to peel the veil of secrets away and answer your questions, fresh from his home in the middle of nowhere in the Appalachian Mountains where he was trained by a blind witch, heeeeeere's Sam."

"You make it sound like I should be playing the banjo with my bare feet," Sam growled back, audible to the audience.

"Hey, if you can do that I'll ask the crowd how much they'd pay to see it."

"I don't."

"Can you do balloon animals?" one guy from the first row asked loudly.

Looking annoyed, Sam answered, "No, but I can do shadow puppets." Twisting his fingers along with his words, he said, "Look, a bunny, a horse, a dog." He flipped his middle finger up alone and directed it toward the wit in the audience. "A dick. Can we get this started so I can finish?"

The crowd laughed, probably thinking it to be part of his act. Grinning, Ravi handed him a box filled with items. Each item had a numbered clothespin attached as part of the claim so people would get their own belongings back. Ravi did an exaggerated bow to Sam, then left the stage.

"This isn't a science. Sometimes I don't see much. Sometimes I don't see what you're asking for." Sam took a deep breath and reached in, pulling out a small ticket. "Your boyfriend went out to see a band and enjoyed the show. The girl he's with isn't you."

"I knew it!" a woman yelled from the crowd.

"Good luck having that stick with your boyfriend if you tell him that you know he's cheating because a psychic told you." Next was a ring. "A bit risky putting this in here. Oh. Not as risky as I thought. These are really good cubic zirconias."

Ravi laughed when a woman smacked her boyfriend's arm very hard.

People hadn't expected to see a psychic reader tonight, so the box mostly contained items people had already been carrying with them: keys, receipts, bills, letters, makeup, photos. From those Sam spun tales: siblings hiding out, cheating spouses, unsolicited manuscripts put into SASEs without even being glanced at, friends trying to get in contact. Once Sam said that Doodles, evidently some kind of plush thing, could be found under the living room couch. The crowd laughed at his surly persona but as the readings went on a light undercurrent of fear could be felt in the room. Sam knew too much.

He seemed to be aware of the crowd's growing disquiet from his increasingly defensive posture. Ravi and especially Goku noticed too.

Now only one item remained, a ragged-edged photo, and Tim could swear that Sam had deliberately passed it by several times. He picked it up now... and quickly put it back down and said, "I can't tell you what you want to know from this. I know that you love her very much from this, but I can't tell you who took her or why."

"Will this be better?" a woman yelled from the audience and held out a terrycloth-covered rattle shaped vaguely like a duckie. "It was left behind."

"That's the chick I got the most money from," Ravi murmured. "I should have known something was up."

"If you've been carrying it all this time I might not be able to get anything," Sam said. "I might not be able to see anything in general."

"Please," she replied.

"He doesn't want to do this," Goku said, looking ready to vault over the bar to get to his side.

"You have to try!" she said, and the crowd loudly agreed with her.

"Shit. I don't like this," Ravi said, "but I don't see how we can stop it without it getting even more ugly. Sorry, boss."

"I should have known," Bob said. "The moment you come up with something...."

"Yeah, yeah. Damn it."

Sam took the rattle and closed his eyes. After a minute he clenched his teeth and his hands started to shake. The rattle made an unsettling sound, raising the hairs on the back of Tim's neck. Magic here, or something close to it. Before tonight, he could smile and smirk over Sam's weirdly dead-on talk or the whole bit about previous lives. Right now, he felt an atavistic fear.

Amazingly, Goku leapt over the bar and landed perfectly on his feet, then jumped up onto the stage with Sam and grabbed him. Sam snapped a sentence at him that wasn't in English, which shocked Goku for a moment but then made him hold on tighter.

Looking exhausted, Sam opened his eyes and said, "The woman who took her wanted her for her pretty blue eyes. Never seen eyes so blue. She's going to pass her off as her own daughter. That's all I know."

"What did she look like?"

"She wasn't thinking about that for the moment she held the rattle, and your baby daughter isn't a good eyewitness. Look, I'm sorry. I'm not playing around with you on this. I really didn't get anything else."

The crowd, formerly shocked to silence, started to murmur angrily. "Shit," Ravi said. Goku took the microphone, said, "It's over, people. He's done. Have a good night," and dragged a dazed Sam off the stage with such anger and determination that no one had the courage to stop him. As Goku passed Ravi, he said, "I'm taking Sam home. You can finish off my shift without taking my pay since this was your idea."

"You didn't object--"

"Blah blah. We're out of here, and you're taking my shift."

"What did he say to you? I don't know the language but it sounded kind of Asian, you seem to be at least a bit Asian, and you obviously understood it."

Goku still looked pissed but answered, "He said, 'You always hang on to me.'"

When Goku took Sam out the door, Ravi said, "Shit," but went behind the bar to take over and Bob called out Happy Hour prices to placate the crowd.

"I'm sure Sam will be okay," Tim told Ravi.

"Yeah." But Ravi, great heart that he had, looked worried.

  


* * *

To Goku's great happiness and almost pride, Sam ate everything Goku put in front of him. Could it be possible that Sam didn't have Sanzo's control and food issues? That would be great.

"I didn't think it would turn out like that," Goku said in apology. Some protector he was.

"Nobody did," Sam answered as he lit up a cigarette and took in a deep drag. "I agreed to it like an idiot. Fuck. My head's killing me. I'm not doing any more of this psychic shit for anyone." He tapped his fingers against the table and said, "Thanks. For helping me get out of there. I could've done it on my own, but... thanks."

Goku wanted to melt. "Sure. No problem."

  


* * *

"Sam, it's for you," Goku said and waved the phone under Sam's nose.

"Huh?" Sam pulled the sheets down and gazed blearily at the phone. His head still hurt.

"Phone call."

"Mmm." Sam took the phone. "Hello?"

"Samuel?"

"Yes." Could whoever she was get to the point so he could go back to sleep?

"I'm the woman from Starbucks yesterday. You found the Wilson report for me."

That woke him up fast. "How did you get this number?"

"I had one of the employees take your application out of the trash."

Shit. She had his name, number, address.... "Why would you want it?"

"We have some missing things we'd appreciate someone finding."

"My method isn't guaranteed."

"It's better than what we have now. We want to hire you for today and maybe for a bit tomorrow, depending on the work we need done and how quickly you go through it. Some admin, a lot of filing, a little of your method. You won't have to answer phones."

He could very easily get screwed over agreeing to this. "I can't do that."

She didn't sound discouraged at all. "Are you with a temp agency?"

He hadn't even gone there yet, but he had a name and phone number for the person he was supposed to see today. "Yeah."

"We'll ask for you for a temporary admin job. It will all be legal."

He'd get paid temp admin rates for his psychic abilities. He really didn't want to do this.... "I don't think so."

"We'll make sure you get an hourly fee above the average, since you'll be doing more than simple admin."

It was better than anything else he had going. "All right. I think you have to negotiate that with my agency, and then if I accept I have to let them tell you I accept." He told her the agency's name. Carolyn, his possible rep-to-be there, might not even agree to this, which gave him an out.

"I'll talk to you later. Goodbye."

"What was that?" Goku asked as Sam handed back the phone.

"I may have a temp job." No way he was telling Goku about the psychic stuff he'd be doing, though, not after his declaration last night.

When Carolyn called to ask him about the job, she sounded surprised and confused that they'd asked for him by name, but he didn't bother to explain it. Carolyn saw nothing wrong with their offer and decided that her agency would take him on. Well, yeah, since he was bringing money in for them before she'd even interviewed him.

"When you go in, get their fax number," Carolyn said. "I need to send you some paperwork. Fill it out and bring it to my office after you're finished there for the day so you can get paid. You should also make sure your supervisor there signs your timesheet before you leave. Where did you catch their interest, anyway?"

"Starbucks, actually."

"You did the right thing by letting me take over on salary and terms. You're not eligible to negotiate your own terms."

It sounded like a crock to Sam, but he figured that working through an agency increased the chances of him actually getting paid. Too many people saw a lone teen as something to be exploited.

The woman he met in Starbucks wanted him to start work immediately today, so he ran for the shower.

  


* * *

Goku was at work for about an hour when Kougaiji's band walked in and asked to see his boss. They weren't really Kougaiji, Yaone, Dokugakuji, and Lirin anymore, but enough of the original personalities remained to make them really uncomfortable for Goku to be around. He noticed that the junkie lead singer, who'd only gotten his karma connected to theirs about a hundred years ago, wasn't with them. From what Goku had seen that guy had been a fuckup in every life too.

It had made Goku sad to see the Kougaiji group's first reincarnations because they'd all died so young, at least by the standards of the youkai lifespans they should have had. After the Minus Wave humans couldn't trust youkai anymore, and there'd been genocidal campaigns for the next three decades. Gojyo and Hakkai had died in one, Gojyo while protecting a youkai woman and child and Hakkai because he just lost it when he found Gojyo's corpse. Last time Goku had been in that part of China he'd still very easily found the indent of the crater.

He was so happy the woman and baby had gotten away before Hakkai had found Gojyo. In Hakkai's state of mind, he might have killed them in an insane rage.

Gojyo and Hakkai had been so sad, so Goku was glad they'd both been human in every life afterward. Half-breed, Gojyo had been aging faster, and Hakkai had gotten more quiet and miserable about it as time went on.

Still, Gojyo hadn't aged as quickly as Sanzo had....

"Hey!" Robbie, who'd been Lirin once upon a time, said. "Earth to Goku! Why do you always look so sad when we visit?"

"Maybe because you're wasting our time," the Dragon said. So weird to have him around as a human after he'd been a dragon of some kind or another for ages.

"We came to apologize for last night," Chris/Kougaiji said. Kougaiji's current body vaguely resembled Gojyo's current body, which freaked Goku out for the number of lives in which that had happened. "It won't happen again."

"We kicked him out!" Robbie said.

"Because he was a junkie?" the Dragon asked.

"How did you-- So that replacement you had on for us last night really is psychic?" Chris answered.

"His name is Sam, and yes he is," Goku answered.

"Actually, we came to apologize and ask if we could have a kind of talent search here one night. We need a new singer. I think people would be interested, since _American Idol_ is so popular. It would get people talking about us too."

"Do people get to vote?" the Dragon asked.

"Probably."

"What will you do if people voted someone in you didn't like?" Goku asked.

"We're still thinking about that."

"Sam is a great singer," Goku had to say. Sanzo always had a voice that commanded attention.

"Yeah? What's he done? Has he worked with anyone?"

Shit. "He sings in the shower."

"Wow. We should hire him right away."

"You wouldn't know a good singer if one came up to you and bit your ass. Look how long you stuck with your junkie." It was a dumb idea anyway. Sanzo fronting Kougaiji's band! They'd bitch each other to death.

"Ravi's not on shift yet, huh?" Ted asked, maybe trying to keep the peace. Gojyo and Dokugakuji often ended up as acquaintances or relatives in their various lives. Ted was Ravi's friend here, though something of a flake.

Kougaiji's people often found one another. So did Hakkai and Gojyo, and Dokugakuji and Gojyo, and Goku found most of them. How come Sanzo got cut off from everyone in so many lives?

"Hey, Goku!" Ted said. "You're spacier than usual today."

"Ravi's not on shift yet."

"I have to give him this mix CD eventually."

"You can leave it with me."

"Nah. I wanna see him."

"So?" Chris asked the Dragon.

"I'll think about it. I lost a lot of money last night."

"We lost money too."

Two people walked in. One moved like a cop though he wasn't dressed in a uniform. Goku had learned to spot them over the years. The other was the woman from last night who'd wanted Sanzo to find her baby. "Shit," Goku said.

The Dragon, seeing them and coming to the same conclusions, said, "I'll kill Ravi."

"You'll have to wait in line."

"I don't think I can make this one go away. Not with a baby involved."

"Yeah, I figured."

Chris and his band had miraculously disappeared. That was the other thing about Sanzo not being able to mix with Kougaiji's group: you couldn't rely on them to back you up. They would do nice things for you if it helped them or they felt like it, but they were only loyal within themselves, always had their own goals, and would turn on you if it helped them. Sanzo talked a good game about nonattachment but refused to work long-term with people who could vanish like smoke when you needed them most. He knew it wasn't good for your health.

Watching the Dragon talking to the cop and the lady, Goku felt his stomach turn. His chance to give Sanzo a happy, stable home might be vanishing like smoke too right now. Fuck it. Better to mix in so he knew what was going on instead of wondering and worrying about it. He walked over.

  


* * *

She looked surprised to see him. Did they change their minds about hiring him? "Is there a problem?" Sam asked.

"No! I just expected you to come in wearing glasses." Was she _blushing_?

"They're reading glasses." He only wore the ugly things when he needed to read. Duh.

"Sure! Let me take you to the filing cabinets. People will come by during the day to ask you for help finding things."

He idly wondered how she'd discussed his psychic abilities with them, then decided he didn't want to know. "All right. Please tell me your fax number. My agency wants to send me some stuff." All the asskissing made him want to choke.

After getting the fax number, calling his agency, and getting the stuff they wanted him to fill out faxed over, he put his glasses on and went to alphabetize the folders, finding it annoying and nearly mindless work. When he put the folders in the drawer, one end of them slid down towards the back, ruining his efforts. Actually, the folders already in there were all doing that and warping. He took a look inside.

Damn. People were morons. But he knew that. He took all the folders out and wrenched the drawer's back bar out of the slots.

"What are you doing?" some guy asked.

"The bar is set too low, which is why all your folders were sliding down. I'm putting it back in at the proper height."

"Oh. We were wondering why they did that. Those bars were already in here when we moved to this office."

"When was that?"

"Two years ago."

Morons. People were _morons_. Hadn't anybody wondered? Thought to look? Taken the time to fix things? Obviously not.

Half the drawers had been set up like that, and he ended up fixing all of them, feeling ridiculous doing this in his office clothes. He got someone to get him pliers to let him take out the bars that had warped or rusted. The papers and folders cut his hands, while the bars left rust streaks. Whenever the homicidal thoughts became too strong he reminded himself that he was paid by the hour and the more time he spent filing the larger his paycheck. He had such a gift for paperwork that he kept doing it too quickly to make a profit anyway.

Throughout, people asked him questions, and he became so much a part of the office that he had answers for all of them. He didn't even look up.

"Where's the file for MC Construction?"

"Robert's desk, left stack near his coffee cup, about halfway down."

"Where's the information for the insurance program?"

"Public folders in your e-mail, then go to the one labeled 'employees,' then go to the one labeled 'Innoviant.'"

"Where did my youth go?" one wiseass asked.

"You frittered it away on useless things," Sam answered, annoyed. Did none of these people ever file their own paperwork? "And you can find the new PO for Interior Works coming out of the fax machine right now." The look of slight fear on the jerk's face when he saw it coming out of the fax at that very moment made it almost worth it.

"What file number is this?" their tax person grumbled to herself.

"What is it?" Sam asked from his position on the floor yanking out the umpteenth bar.

"They rip away the rest of the sheets the customers send and leave me with the unknown, unlabelled job exemptions."

He held out his hand, and she gave it to him. "It's Office Solutions. I think it's customer #3017564. Take it back."

"Can we keep you?" she asked.

He hoped not, because he would be forced to kill somebody at this rate. "It's not up to me."

By the end of the day he had a killer headache and a hatred of paper. He'd already hated people. When he went to his supervisor, he said, "I did most of the filing you gave me, but some is still left."

"Come back tomorrow. You did good work."

He reminded himself that he needed money and work experience. "Thank you. Please sign my timesheet for the day."

When he got home, the phone rang, and caller ID showed that it was from the Fifty-eight. Sam picked up. "Hello?"

"Sam, please come down here," Goku said, sounding worried and a bit annoyed. "Don't change, because you'll make a better impression in your office clothes."

Shit. Shit, something must have gone way wrong. He thought of running, but said, "Yeah, I'll come in." It sounded idiotic, but if Goku thought he was in real danger the weirdo wouldn't be asking him to walk in to it. Better to face it and get it over with.


	2. Chapter 2

They were all tense as the cop waited for Sam to come in, but Ravi tensed up further as a middle-aged woman ordered drinks from him and walked away. “What’s wrong?” Tim asked.

Ravi shook his head. “I hate her. She gives me the creeps, like she’s looking at me like I’m pinned to a slide under a microscope. She acts like she’s known me and felt superior to me for a long time.”

“That sounds unlikely.”

“Ted doesn’t like her either.”

Ted was a flake, but Tim didn’t say that. “All right.”

“I mean it! And she never orders when Goku’s behind the bar, just from me.” Ravi tapped his fingers on the bar top. “I hope Goku doesn’t do something stupid. He’s been on edge since that cop came back an hour ago. That’s a long time to be edgy, so I hope he doesn’t snap.”

Goku wasn’t the only one on edge. Ravi looked guilty, since his idea had brought Sam to the cop’s attention.

“You couldn’t have known.”

“Blondie drags trouble behind him.”

It certainly seemed so. “Too true.”

“But it’s not his fault.”

“You have a good heart.” One Tim loved.

“Yeah, they’ll engrave that on my headstone. Here comes our boy, Johnny Smith.”

Poor Sam.

Bob put a colorful, plastic wrist strap showing Sam’s underage status on the boy immediately. Made sense given that they had an off-duty officer paying such attention to them. “I’m going over to listen,” Tim said. And possibly to intervene if the situation demanded it. Somehow.

“Shit. I wanna-- Go, Tim.” Ravi obviously wanted to be there too instead of stuck behind the bar wondering what was happening.

“Karen said you were young, but I didn’t think you were this young,” the cop was saying as Tim approached. Goku stood protectively at Sam’s side.

“I didn’t scam her,” Sam said, glancing over at the woman who’d been there last night. “I didn’t lie to anyone. I didn’t make any promises. I can’t tell you any more than I already did.” He certainly looked more respectable in a good shirt, pants, and shoes and with his hair combed neatly.

The officer didn’t look happy as he said, “I don’t believe this totally but Karen says you knew things you couldn’t have known, and Elise has been missing for months with no leads. From what she says about how you work, I think you might be able to see more if we took you to the place she was kidnapped from. Your name won’t be mentioned anywhere and you wouldn’t have to testify in a trial. I can find ways of making it look like a more typical lead.”

Sam looked nervous. “Is it a public place? It looked like it was out near the street.”

“Yes.”

“I won’t be able to find anything. There won’t be a trace left, not after months, not with all the people who have been there since. I’m sorry and I feel bad for you, but I won’t be able to see.”

“I want you to try. That’s not a threat. I’m asking.” It sounded threatening nonetheless.

Tim understood Sam’s worries. Would the officer retaliate in some way if Sam refused or even if Sam acquiesced but then couldn’t see anything? Good people had done worse in lesser causes, and babies in danger provided an excuse society would accept for it. Tim had some faith in humanity but he knew how vindictive they could be.

“I’ll try,” Sam said. “But I can’t make any promises.”

“Thank you,” the woman said.

“I’ll go with him,” Tim said.

“Tim--” Goku started.

“He should have a responsible adult with him since he’s only 18. I’m a college professor, officer.” Tim gave Goku a look that he hoped said that he would be more likely to keep a calm head in this situation, something that would help Sam better with the police.

Hopefully his recent gunshot wound wouldn’t come up.

Goku nodded as if he understood, although he didn’t look happy. “Tim’s good. He should go with.”

The officer had enough decency not to ask if they didn’t trust him. Good. Tim preferred not to lie to people when he didn’t have to.

  


* * *

This was stupid. This was what came of trying to help people. He’d almost had a heart attack when he’d realized the guy who wanted to talk to him was a cop. Even aside from the big problem of the corpse in the woods, way before that Uncle had made sure the town police knew Sam hurt himself and made up stories to get attention. Kid’s not right in the head, you know. No abuse here, sir. Sam would have all of that hanging like a sword over his head for the rest of his life, so he didn’t want anybody digging into his past. Which made what he was doing now ultra-ironic.

Sam crouched down at _the_ spot on the sidewalk and tried to ignore everyone. Tried not to feel like a freak too. Failed.

Tim seemed calm. Good. Somebody should. Sam could feel Goku’s anxiety through the odd link they had. Good thing the monkey hadn’t come with him, because he’d have to smack him. He wanted a smoke so badly but didn’t want to light up in front of Officer Friendly. Damn, it sucked to be so young. He had no legal defense against anyone who wanted to fuck with him.

Sam took in a deep breath and let it out. In, out, in, out, breathing from his gut. Don’t hold on to it. Then he set his fingertips on the dirty concrete.

People. Seasons. People. People people people people people people people people people people people people people....

Don’t drown. Skim. Remember how to breathe. Remember the rattle. Remember the baby, the touch of stroller wheels, the illicit desire of one person....

People. He saw them all as they walked and ran and drove and died near this spot. The earth remembered. Goku knew that. So much, too much, so old.

Eyes so blue. Such a pretty baby. I’ll take you home with me. No, my neighbors would wonder. We’ll go home to Mom and Dad. They wanted me to have a baby so badly. We’ll be a happy family....

  


* * *

The officer looked skeptical as Sam stared at nothing in front of him, but Tim could see the tremors running through Sam’s thin body and knew they weren’t faked. Blood started to run from his left nostril. This had gone far enough. Not caring whether Sam had reached what he’d been brought here for, not when he was bleeding, Tim crouched down next to him and put his hands on his shoulders, saying, “You’ve done enough. Come back.”

Sam breathed out loudly and _saw_ again. “Green SUV. Pathfinder. Couldn’t see the plate number, but the plate was Illinois. She wasn’t thinking of her plate number. She figured on taking the baby to her parents in Skokie. That’s it. That’s it.”

“It’s worth checking into,” the officer said. So cold. He could see a boy _bleeding_ to help him, yet....

Tim swallowed down his anger. “Are we done here, sir? Sam worked 9 to 5 today, and now on top of that he’s exhausted himself with this.” Emphasize what an upstanding, helpful citizen Sam was.

“Yeah. Thanks. We have your number to contact you.”

“Thank you,” the woman said as she looked hopeful. “Thank you so much.” That cooled Tim’s temper a little.

“Sure,” Sam answered, sounding tired, licking blood off his top lip.

Tim gave him a tissue and wished he could stop the bleeding at the source. No one should be allowed to hurt the people he cared for.

“We’ll take you home.”

It was the _least_ they could do. Tim said, “Thank you,” and smiled pleasantly.

As they rode back to the Fifty-eight Sam, looking exhausted, stayed silent with his head drooping until he asked softly, “Tim, are you familiar with the concept of muichimotsu?” He sounded almost disconnected.

“Isn’t that the Buddhist idea of nonattachment, ‘hold nothing’?” He could swear he remembered something in there about killing your father if you met him but decided that couldn’t be right.

“Yeah. ‘Free of all, bound by nothing, you live your life simply as it is.’ That’s bullshit. Everything is attached. Attachment _is_ life. It’s death too. ‘Don’t breathe too deeply’ is bullshit too, because how deep is too deep? If you don’t breathe in enough, you don’t live.”

“I think you need some rest.”

“I have to go back to the office tomorrow.”

“At least that’s just filing, right?”

“...yeah.” Sam hesitated too long.

“Do I have to save you from yourself?”

“No, but it’s nice that someone would want to.”

“Aside from Goku?”

Sam nearly smiled.

  


* * *

Goku could barely stand still as the car pulled up to the curb and Sam fought free of Tim’s supporting arm to get out on his own. So proud. Always. Goku smelled blood on him and glared at the cop.

“Thanks again,” the woman said as they drove away.

“We should have had them take us to your apartment,” Tim said.

“Didn’t want to bring them right to where we live,” Sam answered as he lit up and inhaled like he’d been starving. “Even though they probably know anyway. It’s the principle.”

“I can take him home, Tim!” Goku said.

“Goku can take me home, Tim,” Sam said.

Sam seemed to be as eager to leave as he was, although Sam’s legs didn’t seem as steady as they should be. They waved at Tim and started to walk. “You were bleeding,” Goku had to say.

“Every day of my life. We all do.”

Goku could smell when Sam had used his ability, since it smelled like light and faintly of some kind of flower, maybe lilies. Smelled like Goku’s vague and incomplete memories of how heaven had smelled before everything had gone horribly wrong, before heaven had started to smell of blood.

With Sam’s recent nosebleed, he smelled exactly like things gone horribly wrong in heaven. Goku had lost him then; he refused to lose him again now.

“I think I’m gonna go home and sleep,” Sam mumbled.

Home. He’d called it home! “You don’t have to work tomorrow, do you?” At Sam’s sigh, Goku said, “I’m not setting the alarm for you! If you don’t wake up you’re not going in!”

He didn’t care about Sam making money; they didn’t need it. Only Sam cared about it. Goku could support the both of them easily. If Sam wanted to sit on the couch and eat most of the day--and damn that would be _so_ sexy--Goku would be more than happy to supply the cash to fulfill that dream. His own chubby Buddha Sanzo with a belly to kiss and stroke.... Hell, in that case he’d be there feeding Sam by hand himself whenever he wasn’t out working.

Shit. He hoped Sam didn’t see how aroused he was. He hoped Sam couldn’t read that desire off him. At least he’d find out if Sam did, because Sam would probably go ballistic the moment he heard it.

Sam put his hand atop Goku’s head, something that wasn’t as easy as it used to be now that they were about the same height. One of his long fingers brushed Goku’s gold circlet through his bangs, making them both shiver and making Goku get harder. Dirty fighting! At least the lack of smacking suggested that Sam still hadn’t seen the Buddha fantasy.

“I’m not setting your alarm!” Goku said again to get back on track.

“I’ll set my alarm.”

“I’ll turn it off!”

“I’ll shoot you.”

“That threat got old ages ago, especially since I’m still alive.”

“I’ll find a new threat.”

  


* * *

Sam turned out the light and dropped onto the foldout couch, thankful that Goku had already pulled out the bed since he didn’t think he had the strength right now. At least he felt a bit better after his shower. Tylenol and sleep would have to be enough. Would have been nice if he could’ve afforded to let Goku talk him out of going to work tomorrow, but he had to build up experience and a good reputation if he didn’t want a future full of asking people if they wanted to fucking supersize their order. He checked his alarm clock, then rolled over.

He was half asleep when he felt the bed dip. As he quickly reached for the gun under his pillow he heard, “Sam, it’s me!”

“You gotta be fucking kidding me! Get the hell out of my bed, Goku!”

“I want to make sure you sleep!”

“I was halfway there until you showed up! And you put out heat like a damned furnace!”

“I’m not leaving.”

He didn’t have the strength or patience for this.... “You’re not stopping me from going to work.”

“If you don’t feel well you’re not going.”

Sam had shared a bed before, usually with cousins. None of _them_ had tongue-kissed him--thank God--but he... trusted Goku not to take advantage of him, although he didn’t know why. Sam struggled to remember something. Something about Goku and sleep.

...Goku slept like the dead. Remembering that, Sam started to smile a little. “All right.”

“All right?”

“All right, okay? But if you put any moves on me or stick _anything_ in my mouth I swear I will beat the shit out of you.”

“Okay!” Goku sounded like he didn’t believe Sam would really do it. He also almost sounded like a kid who’d won the jackpot.

Sam didn’t want to think about it. “I mean it. And don’t be noisy.”

“Okay.”

“And you better be wearing something!”

“Yes!”

“Fine. Just let me sleep.”

As Sam started to fade into sleep he vaguely felt Goku’s hand settle on his hip but decided it was too much effort to wake up to beat the shit out of Goku. As his last gesture he turned the alarm back on.

  


* * *

Head aching, Sam stretched to turn the alarm off, and that was about all he could do with Goku wrapped so tightly around him. He only had one arm free. Pushing, prying, and wiggling didn’t do jack except get Sam hard because bodies were stupid. Goku slept on, prodding Sam’s hip with his morning wood the whole time.

That had been worse when it had been one of his cousins. Two different ones on two separate times, actually.

Still, he needed to get out of bed and off to work and be able to breathe. “Goku, get off me.” Snore. “Goku, get off me. Wake up, Goku!” Snore. Guy was strong too for somebody with such a thin monkey build.

What did Sam do to deserve this? He thought he was a pretty good guy. He didn’t do even half the shit he wished he could to the morons out there.

He had no intention of staying here until the monkey woke up, and he needed to get out of bed! “Goku, get the fuck off me!”

...what _language_ had that been?

But it worked. Goku rolled away a little and snuffled, murmuring something. Sam pulled free hard, not even minding when his elbows and ass hit the floor. At least he’d reached the floor.

Shit. He’d always been weird, so much so that he’d been introduced to psychiatric drugs, but he’d gotten weirder later. It didn’t help that he’d started reaching for the visions and knowledge instead of just letting them come to him. He had it bad enough without chasing them.

Now he was also remembering things he’d never done and speaking in tongues. Déjà vu kept hitting him when he hung around with these people. Too many echoes of old thoughts and old conversations. If he stayed with them, would he lose himself? Being caught in a past that had actually happened wouldn’t make him any better at dealing with real life than being crazy would.

Maybe he should leave. He didn’t think he could get Goku out of his head short of lobotomy or death, but there had to be something aside from drugs, right? The drugs hadn’t even gotten rid of it all, just muffled it....

Stupidly, he didn’t want to leave them. He’d never felt so comfortable with a bunch of people in his life. Friends had never come easily to him, and somehow Goku, Ravi, and Tim already qualified as that. Attachments, part of life.

But were they worth going literally insane over?

If you meet your friends on the road, kill your friends.

Or take a different road.

  


* * *

As soon as he woke up Goku knew that Sam had slipped out. Damn. He always slept too deeply around Sanzo.

He would have to make sure Sam didn’t work tomorrow. Why couldn’t he ever cure Sanzo of self-destructive behavior?

  


* * *

Despite his headache and the thoughts that wouldn’t leave him alone, Sam somehow made it through the workday. As he worked, Sam didn’t come to any decisions on whether he should leave Chicago, which only pissed him off more. Indecision signified weakness. Maybe it would be easier when his head stopped hurting.

Apparently someone had decided he could see what he claimed to see because halfway through the workday some of the higher-ups called him into an office and started asking bigger questions, some of which he couldn’t answer. “Look, I can’t tell you when Customer A is going to send a check or if they already have, not if I’m not there with them. I won’t be able to see anything about your company after I leave this office. That’s how it works. I need some close physical link, the closer the better.” They relaxed a little more around him after that now that they didn’t have to worry so much about their industrial secrets, just as Sam had meant them to, since he didn’t need any more trouble from people than he already had.

Still, they told him this was the last day they needed him for, which didn’t surprise or upset him, having had enough of this place. At the end he got his supervisor’s signature for his timesheet, faxed it to his agency, went home, toed off his work shoes, and flopped down on the couch, already going to sleep.

  


* * *

Goku had managed to sweet talk the boss into letting Ravi off tonight’s shift and Karen into substituting as bartender. Goku had his own persuasive powers, though they didn’t compare to Ravi’s. They had a different source, for one thing. But Goku wanted Tim and Ravi to come by to sit on Sam if necessary to make sure he didn’t overdo anything. Poor Ravi had to flush all the fun images out of his mind first but agreed. A lot of the kid’s recent problems came from that night on stage, and Ravi had been the instigator of that one. While he refused to take all the blame, he felt some guilt.

Nobody had to sit on Sam right now while Sam was so busy being unconscious on the couch, lying curled up on his side. He looked adorable but worn out, rumpled, young, his face softened in sleep, smudgy shadows of fatigue under his eyes. Somehow the loosened tie and open collar made the image perfect.

“I think sleep’s good for him,” Goku said softly, still sounding worried.

“We’ll stay with you, okay? Play some cards in your bedroom so we won’t wake him up,” Ravi said. Seeing his lead, Tim nodded in agreement.

“Thanks.”

Sitting on the floor and Goku’s bed, they were playing poker for about 40 minutes when Sam, looking rumpled and sleepy but not pissed off, cute, opened the door and asked, “The hell?”

Goku melted like a lemon ice on a sidewalk under the August sun. Damn, but he was gone on the kid. “We didn’t wake you, did we?”

“Nah.” Sam rubbed his eyes. “Deal me in.”

“Sure! Tim’s winning this round anyway, so we might as well stop it and start a new one.”

Tim shot Goku a mock dirty look.

Sam sat cross-legged on the bed across from Goku and looked at the hand dealt him while Goku looked at him and around at the rest of them smiling. Goku seemed to really like integrating Sam into their party, which kind of made sense if he wanted Sam to stick around as his sig-o. Your love being friends with your friends made some things easier.

The past lives thing actually made sense of something Ravi had wondered about for a while. Goku would mock him every time he got involved with an older guy because a lot of the time it turned out to be a disaster. Every older guy Ravi went with started out fine but eventually demanded that he stop flirting or dressing the way he did out in public, wanting it all to themselves alone. They wanted to control his life, just like his fucking father. Yet once in a while he tried again, thinking it would be different this time. He and Goku had gotten into yelling and shoving matches about it, with both of them throwing the word “moron” around. The Fifty-eight’s patrons saw it as a floorshow and laid bets sometimes.

But Goku hadn’t said a thing against him getting involved with Tim. Hell, he’d seemed happy about it.

“Maybe Tim wouldn’t always win at mahjong,” Goku said. “I could teach you guys to play.”

“Isn’t that an old lady game?” Ravi asked.

“Bite your tongue.”

“I’m open to learning,” Tim said, smiling. “It can get embarrassing defeating all of you constantly.”

“Listen to Mr. Smug,” Ravi answered.

“Maybe we can try another time,” Tim said as he gestured with his head toward Sam, who didn’t look up to learning anything new tonight.

“I need a cigarette,” Sam murmured.

“I just have cloves,” Ravi answered.

“A real cigarette. I got them out on the kitchen table.”

“I’m not your servant to go fetch for you, Sama.”

“What did you call him?” Goku asked, sounding like he was trying not to laugh.

“His name’s Sam, so ‘Sama.’ You’ve noticed that I turned Tim into ‘Timmeh.’”

Smiling, Goku shook his head. “Sure, Ravi.”

One thing about Sam, him being around seemed to make Goku happier. Maybe that was worth a bit of fetching. But Sam had already left and come back with his Marlboros and lighter and one cigarette already in his mouth. At Ravi’s look Sam said, “I could die of waiting.”

Sometimes Ravi felt like he knew Sam so well but then Sam did something that surprised him, which made no sense when he barely knew the fucking kid either way. “Saved me the trip.”

“Lazy. More manual labor might improve you.”

“Tim has no complaints about how much manual labor I provide.”

Tim had his head down and his hand in front of his mouth as he made sounds that might be coughing or laughter. “Don’t get me involved,” he finally managed to say.

Sam relaxed more as they kept playing but still looked far too tense even as he yawned, so Ravi said, “Let me pay you to come out clubbing with me tomorrow night.” Therapy.

“I thought we wrote ‘prostitute’ off as a job for me,” Sam replied, looking surprised and sounding annoyed.

“You perverted kappa!” Goku said, to Ravi’s confusion.

“Why are you calling me a sushi roll?” Ravi had to ask. “You can’t possibly know any sexual euphemisms I don’t, I won’t believe it.”

“No. A kappa’s kind of like a predatory perverted fairy.”

They wouldn’t name a sushi roll after _that_. Goku had to be kidding. What kind of roll was a kappa roll again? Oh yeah. So Goku was calling him a cucumber? What? Did he mean cucumbers as...? Ew. Ravi hoped not. “What did I ever do to you?”

“You just offered to make Sam your private dancer!”

Great. Now he had a Tina Turner song in his head. Meanwhile, Tim seemed to be trying not to laugh. It looked painful. Sam just shook his head.

“Sam, I’m not saying you have to put out or even sit on my knee,” Ravi said. Though those were some damned pretty thoughts. Tim reached across the bed to slap his hand hard, which shocked him out of them. “Ow! Shit, that stung.”

“I learned from the nuns,” Tim answered, his smile tight. Aw, sweetie.

“You’re Catholic?” Sam asked.

“Yes. Aside from the lingering remnants of corporal punishment, Catholic school provided a good education. My confirmation name is ‘Peter.’”

“Mine’s ‘Luke.’”

“Why?” Goku asked.

“Because he blew up the Death Star. If there’d been a St. Han I would’ve gone for that instead, but there _wouldn’t_ be a St. Han, would there?”

“You kill me, Blondie,” Ravi said through his snickers.

“Granddad called me ‘Moses’ sometimes.” Sam sounded very sleepy and a little vague. That might be where the honesty was coming from.

“I’m not asking you out to be a letch. I’m offering to pay you to go out because I think you need to go out but won’t do it unless you get money for it.”

“You’re really fucking bizarre.”

“Is that a yes?”

“I don’t go out clubbing.”

“Maybe I could get some friends to go too. I couldn’t possibly put moves on you in a crowd.”

“Unless they’re all perverts and you figure you could share me with all of them.”

Sam had a talent for dirty images, and Ravi had too good an imagination. “Hell no!”

Funny how Goku’s eyes looked more yellow when he was ticked off.

“You’re promising people when you don’t even know if they’ll show up?” Sam asked.

“I’m not promising anything. Go out. Give it a chance. You might have some fun. C’mon, you’re too young to have such a sour look. Your face might freeze like that.”

Goku still looked kind of pissed, but Sam now had what might be a considering look on his face. Tim... also looked kind of pissed, so Ravi said, “It’s not like it’s a date. I already have a honey and love him too much to seduce you.”

“...all right. If you’re paying me for it and paying to get me inside.”

Goku and Tim looked as surprised as Ravi felt. “Yeah? Really?”

“I could still change my mind.” Sam blew out a long plume of smoke. “A change of scene might do me some good. I dunno. You’re paying my way in too, right?”

“Yeah. You know, you might enjoy yourself.”

“That’s really fucking unlikely.”

“I’m done for the night,” Tim said. “I’d like to go home.”

“All right, hon,” Ravi answered. “Tomorrow night, Sam.”

“Yeah, I got it.”

As they were walking home, it didn’t surprise Ravi when Tim said, “That really bothered me.”

No need to ask for more detail. “It’s not a date. I’m just trying to get the kid to live a little. You admit yourself that his life hasn’t had much fun.”

“So we must take all the impoverished teens of the world out clubbing?”

“You don’t like going to clubs! That’s why I don’t even ask you anymore.”

“While you do like it. I know.” Tim sighed. “I’m being jealous and unreasonable.”

“Sam can’t compare to you. I’m not taking him out to get into his pants. You have to know that. Besides, he’d shoot my nuts off if I tried.”

“That would be tragic.”

“Damned right. Forgiven?”

“There’s nothing to forgive. I trust you, Ravi.”

Thank God. He hated to have Tim mad at him. “Good. Now watch me try to get some friends in on this to make it even less date-like.” Ravi took out his cell phone and punched in Ted’s number. “Hey, man. Wanna go out clubbing tomorrow night?”

“Can’t. We’re looking through the submissions for the band. We only want the best singers trying out in the showcase.”

“What? Submissions like videos and shit?”

“Videos, CDs.”

“They need you to help them go through those? C’mon.”

“I’m an important part of the band,” Ted answered with great dignity.

“You’re letting me down here.”

Ted made a rude sound and ended the call. Damn.

“That didn’t sound encouraging,” Tim said.

“Ted’s a dink. Unfortunately, most of my other friends would pounce Sam, the sluts.”

“You need a better group of friends.”

“I got you and Goku.”

“Go with Sam tomorrow. I trust you.”

“You can come along.” That would be great. He still dreamed of getting Tim to loosen up in public.

“I felt silly in clubs even before I became too old for them.”

“Please. You’re not too old.”

“Ravi, let me trust you. While I’m staying in my home tomorrow night.”

“Fine.”

  


* * *

“I can’t believe you agreed to go out with him!” Goku said as he threw the paper cups and plates away. Sanzo going out with Gojyo? Yeah, they had sex in some of their lives, but Sanzo never socialized in Gojyo’s natural habitats. Them going out _doing_ things together had to be one of the signs of the oncoming end of the world.

“I’m not ‘going out.’ We’ll be arriving at a club together.”

“I could get someone to cover my shift tomorrow night.”

“I don’t need a babysitter.”

“Sam--”

“I find it really hard to believe that you’d be friends with a rapist.”

“Sam! I didn’t mean it like that!”

“I can take care of myself.”

Something was wrong. Sam had Sanzo’s ulterior motive face on. What did he have in mind?

But Sam had made it clear that if Goku tailed him he’d take it as a sign of distrust and a lack of confidence in him. Sanzo was quick to offend and slow to forgive. “All right. Take care of yourself. Try to have fun, even if you’re going with Ravi.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“And stay home tomorrow. I have a gun cleaning kit around, you know.”

Sam’s eyes lit up even as he asked, “Why the hell would you happen to have a gun cleaning kit around?”

“You have a gun.” Sometimes Goku thought it gave him an unfair advantage that he’d known Sanzo for hundreds of years while each version of Sanzo had to start with Goku fresh.

Didn’t mean he didn’t take advantage of it sometimes to try to make up for how the whole situation was unfair to him too.

  


* * *

When Ravi showed up that night he opened Goku’s door to see Sam singing along to his earphones as he cleaned a disassembled gun. Scary kid. Scary kid with a good voice though.

“I thought you were bringing friends,” Sam said as he took his earphones off. “What, you don’t have any?”

“I have more than you do.”

“Odds are, you have exactly as many as I do.”

Most people Ravi would smack down if they talked to him like that. For whatever reason, Sam’s mouth amused the hell out of him. “You can’t bring a gun tonight.”

“It would liven up the evening, but I know. What’s in the bag?”

“Glad you asked.” Ravi set it on the table and unzipped it. “You can’t go in wearing a T-shirt. I would’ve brought pants too, but you’re so much shorter than me.”

Sam put down gun bits to go through Ravi’s bag. As he looked at the items he said, “You gotta be kidding me.”

“Look at me. I can’t have you at my side in redneck uniform.”

“I try not to look at you.”

“You’re missing out.”

“At least my combat boots are real.”

“Authenticity can’t live up to a better fake.”

“You really did major in philosophy.”

“Stop bitching and try some of the stuff on. A lot of it stretches so it should fit.”

“It better stretch. It’s all so fucking small.”

“Like hell. The other reason I didn’t bother to bring pants for you is that you couldn’t possibly live up to my package.”

“Please.”

“Yeah? Show me.”

“I’m not taking my pants off to show you dick.”

Ravi had to laugh. Sam actually smiled a bit, a smirky kind of smile, then turned around to pull his T-shirt off. “What,” Ravi asked, “you’re afraid to show me your nipples? You don’t have anything I haven’t seen.”

“I don’t want to excite you too much.”

Sam had a few of what looked like old cigarette burns on his back in places. In places he never could have reached himself. While Sam quickly put one of Ravi’s shirts on, blocking the view, and tucked it into his old blue jeans, Ravi debated whether he should ask or say something.

The kid had run away from home. Duh, Ravi. Some people had more complaints about their guardians than just “they don’t understand me.” He decided not to bring it up, not on a night when he was trying to loosen the kid up.

“Fucking cap sleeves,” Sam muttered, then put on a pair of tall black gloves that went all the way up, pulled his hair up out of the shirt’s tall collar, and shook his head out.

Then he turned around and for a moment Ravi couldn’t breathe. The black nylon of the shirt and gloves clung well to that slim frame but didn’t have the right luster and texture. The gloves left his fingers bare but not any part of his palms. Not right. The tall collar of the shirt looked right, but the short sleeves didn’t. Should be no sleeves. The jeans had worn out to bagginess instead of looking tight like they should. The boots just... no. The outfit was close enough to _something_ that Ravi felt a lump in his throat but so not quite that he wanted to scream. Close enough to what? Not quite _what_?

Sam clenched his hands into fists. “I don’t like the cloth on my palms. It’ll probably catch on things. What?”

“You look beautiful. I think you should go with that outfit.”

Sam gave him a “you gotta be kidding me” look but kept the shirt and gloves, just putting his dogtags on. It added to the not-quite but Ravi wouldn’t say a word. No need to encourage his growing insanity.

He couldn’t help snapping a picture of Sam with his cell phone camera. “Delete that!” Sam said.

“No way in hell. I’m keeping this for posterity.”

Most T-shirt and jeans guys would object more to walking out in public looking like this, but Sam didn’t complain. Hell, he seemed comfortable. Didn’t say much in the car though, just kinda napped with his arms crossed over his chest and head back and tilted to the side against the headrest, hair covering his face a bit, while Ravi tried to stop freaking out so much.

Previous lives, Goku had said. What kind of previous life could they have had that Sam looked almost right in that outfit?

The door guy let them right in, though Sam had to have a plastic band put around his wrist to show he was a minor. Oh, he loved that. Ravi felt his muscles unkink at the feel of the bass rumbling through his body and the smell of acrid chemical “fog,” perfume and cologne, sweat, and alcohol. Home.

Sam looked twitchy and freaked out instead of simply sexy. “What the hell am I supposed to do now?” he shouted over the din.

“Dance!” Ravi yelled back. “I know you’ve heard of it. They must have dancing in Ohio.”

Sam flipped him off. “You’re not paying me enough for this.” Too bad no one would let Sam drink here, since that would loosen him up fast. Shit, Ravi should have given him a beer before they left.

“I love this song!” Ravi grabbed Sam’s hands and started to move them around, even though Sam didn’t work with him on it and did a good impersonation of dead weight. “C’mon, not dancing won’t get you out of here any faster.”

Sam rolled his eyes but started to move a little, awkwardly. Ravi pulled him in closer and spun them around a bit, having a good time moving.

“People are looking at us!” Sam yelled.

“Not really!” Though Ravi usually liked it when people looked at him. Meant his efforts paid off. “Mirror me. Work for your money. Shake your moneymaker.”

“I hate you.”

But Sam kind of danced, unexpectedly being a good sport about it. Ravi was having a pretty good time, even if Sam did stomp down hard on his foot every time his hand strayed a little too close to Sam’s skinny ass. The kid even almost smiled as getting out and _moving_ worked that endorphin magic Ravi loved so well.

Finally Ravi said, “I’ll get us drinks. I got a mighty thirst.”

“Beer,” Sam answered.

“No way. I like coming here and they know me. If they catch me giving you a beer when you have that band on, I’ll be in deep shit.”

“I hate people.”

“No reason you should change now, right? You want a Coke or ice water?”

“Ice water.”

Sheila worked the bar, so Ravi had to chat. Of course, she asked about Tim, and Ravi had to divulge the dish on his pity taking-out of Sam. If people thought he was sleeping around on Tim, available, certain somebodies would start throwing themselves at him, and he and Tim did not need that.

As Ravi brought the plastic cups over to Sam, he noticed some chick stomping away from his not-quite-date. “Grace and charm you got there, Sam.”

Sam scowled as he took his cup. “She was hanging all over me. I told her to respect my personal space and get lost.”

She was coming back with two beefy, pissed-off looking guys. Ravi slugged down his Coke. “Thugs incoming. Shit, this never happens to me when I go out. You’re a curse, Sama.”

Sam grinned and had a hard kind of excited light in his eyes. _Wanting_ a fight. “You’re not the first person to say so.”

“I’d be happier with a weapon.”

“Grab somebody’s beer bottle and break the top off on a table edge. Why do I have to tell you these things?”

The thugs came on like freight trains, but Sam just calmly settled into some kind of martial arts pose. Ravi hoped he had more behind that than just having seen some chop socky movies or _The Matrix_ or some shit. Nah, Sam did have the moves, fast and flexible, to go with the look, something Ravi got to see a bit of before _his_ thug got up in his grill. But Ravi had something too, some weird knowledge he’d used for the first time the night he met Tim when before that he’d always let Goku do any head-busting that needed to be done. Something in Ravi’s body knew how to fight, and liked it. Besides, he was muscular in his slim way, something people rarely noticed. At least not unless he was fucking them.

Damn, Sam _was_ fast and flexible, dancing around his opponent, grinning nastily, enjoying himself, _drawing it out_.

This was what he had taken Sam out for.

Ravi... was having a good time himself. But he took his guy down fast. Playing around could be risky. Sam must have finally decided on the same because he finally knocked his out. Just in time for Security to finally arrive and grab _them_.

“We were defending ourselves!” Ravi yelled as they were led to the back door and pushed outside. “Shit. They may never let me back in again. I like this place!”

“And you say _I_ complain all the time,” Sam said, still smiling evilly, breathing a little hard, so sexy.

“Only because you do, cherry baby.” Then Ravi kissed him hard. Later on he might say he did it because his adrenaline was up from the fight or because Sam looked so hot and had that “don’t fuck with me” air that begged people to fuck with him. He might say he kept on doing it because Sam sure as hell didn’t fight him and just worked with him, giving back as good as he got, mouth a little open, tongues touching, hands gripping each other, _mutual_.

Later he might say those things. At the moment he didn’t have a thought in his head except that this felt right and the two of them got like this sometimes.

But then Sam pushed him away and looked confused, then looked angry, then looked rueful and kind of _defeated_ somehow, while Ravi realized that he’d just done exactly what he’d sworn to everyone, himself included, he wouldn’t do. He’d expected Sam’s anger to last longer, though.

“I’m sorry--” Ravi said, feeling sick over the defeated look on Sam’s face.

“Take me home,” Sam said softly.

“I won’t do--”

“I know. Really. Just take me home.”

“Yeah. Okay.” Shit.

  


* * *

Goku felt something go wrong. After a too brief rush of exhilarated excitement, Sam bled emotions that tasted like a sour gush of rotting garbage.

Ravi might have to die horribly. Goku didn’t know what he’d done, but it must have been stupid and bad. And it was still early in the night...!

Then they opened the door and Goku lost all of his anger in a rush when he saw them. _Sanzo_, he would have said if he could’ve gotten any words past the lump in his throat.

“Ravi kissed me. I kissed back,” Sam said. “I need a cigarette. Good night.” He pushed past Goku and went straight to the kitchen. And didn’t come back out.

Ravi? Why did Ravi get that from Sam?

Finally overcoming his shock, Goku opened his mouth to lambaste Ravi for being a perverted asshole slut, but Ravi looked so miserable and guilty that he couldn’t. Ravi said, “I know. You don’t have to say it. I have to go see Tim. Then I’ll probably stick my head in the oven if I don’t let Tim kill me first. Tell the kid ‘I’m sorry’ for me, will you? I’ve already done it 20 times on the way home but #21 might be the lucky one. See you.” He shuffled away.

Life was so much simpler when Goku could just punch his frustrations out.

Sam sat at the kitchen table and smoked. “We were lovers sometimes, weren’t we, him and me? Or maybe not quite lovers but more than fuckbuddies or some shit.”

Goku sat down across from him. “Sometimes.”

“They don’t know it, don’t feel it like I do. Him and Tim don’t. You know because you’re... old. Right?” It so looked like Sanzo sitting there with his heart ripped out, bleak and bitter.

“Yeah.”

“How the hell do you deal?”

Goku tapped his limiter with one finger, instinctive. “Not much choice.”

“That’s so wrong.” Sam opened his grass-green eyes and blew out a veil of smoke that partially obscured his face but couldn’t hide his sympathetic expression. Sam felt sympathy for him, so much that it was visible instead of just sensed over their link.

Goku never got to see him young. Physically young sometimes, but never mentally young. Every time, he caught Sanzo after life and/or age had brutalized him to the point where he’d closed himself away behind a thick, hard shell of anger and cynicism. Sam didn’t trust easily either, and he might be wary, but he was still somewhat open. Goku could tell that Sam wanted to leave but also wanted to be talked into staying. Wanted Goku to talk him into it, and would listen.

It put a sweet pain in Goku’s chest to get something he’d always wanted. It almost made up for Sam kissing Ravi to get them here. Almost.

“Where would you go if you left?” Goku asked. Had Sam gone out with Ravi tonight figuring it would go wrong and give him an excuse to leave?

Sam looked somewhat surprised, then answered, “I don’t know. I don’t have much money, and people are assholes everywhere. It’s just that I think being around you people will drive me crazy.”

What could you say to that? “You think you won’t go crazy on your own?” Okay, maybe that wasn’t a good comeback.

But Sam laughed, and it only sounded a little bit like the creaking, coughing, nearly-crazy laugh Sanzo sometimes did. “Fuck if I know.”

Goku ran his thumb along his limiter, clearing his hair away from it a bit. “You know what this is?”

“Kind of. It... keeps you contained. I know nobody should try to remove it.”

“It’s a limiter, and it hasn’t broken in a long time. I used to be insanely powerful without it, but maybe not as much now. Magic seems to be draining out of the world, so maybe it’s draining out of me too.”

“What happens to you if the magic’s totally gone?”

“I don’t know. But the point is that I’m like a different person and kind of crazy without it. I have trouble maintaining self-control.”

“So you’re saying other people--like you--have it worse so I should stop whining?”

Shit. “That’s not what I’m saying. Not really.”

“What you’re not saying is kind of right. Fuck, I don’t know. I get the feeling I was institutionalized before.”

“Uhm.”

“Great.”

“Not that often!”

“I also keep thinking it would be easier on Ravi and Tim if I weren’t around. You didn’t see the look on Ravi’s face when he first saw me in this outfit.”

“I figure it was lust.”

“That too, but he recognized the outfit even though he didn’t know why. I didn’t really understand that until I saw the look on your face when we walked in. You know this kind of outfit on me too. What the hell was I while wearing this?”

“It’s part of a traditional outfit.”

“Of what? The holy order of cage-dancing go-go boys? Never mind. Not the point. The point is that I may be aware of old shit, but Ravi and Tim are gonna keep getting déjà vu moments they don’t understand, and that has to be confusing.”

Goku had never thought it might be _painful_ to them. “I told them.”

That surprised him. “And they believed you?”

“Not at first, but I think they’re coming around.”

“I think this is hurting them. Are you sure it’s not hurting them because you know it’s not or because you want to keep me around so you’re ignoring the truth?” Sanzo always had a gift for turning things around with words until you didn’t know which way you were facing and the words wrapped around you and drew blood.

Goku always felt his way around and tried to cut right through. “They haven’t had you around for two-hundred years!” And for stretches of time before that too. “They like you, and they’re glad you’re back. Having us around has made such a difference in Tim’s life.”

“Where the hell was I for two-hundred years?”

“Things got in the way.” Goku couldn’t explain how it worked to his own satisfaction, so how could he do it for Sam? “Sam, _we_ want you around. Not just me. And I like you for who you are now too.”

Stubbing out his cigarette in the ashtray, Sam said, “No accounting for taste,” as he almost smiled. Wearing those gloves....

That outfit was driving Goku insane with wanting. It was so _close_. “Why Ravi?” he had to ask, and it embarrassed him when his voice broke on it a little.

Sam knew what he meant. “We finished this mini-brawl against these two assholes, which was just what I needed, and then his mouth was there and it was good and familiar for about two minutes until I remembered why it was a horrible idea and wasn’t me. I wasn’t thinking. He was... there, which sounds like shit for everybody involved, but it’s the truth. I didn’t do it to hurt you, Goku, and it’s not happening again anyway. I like you, okay? But you’re still you while I’m not exactly your Sanzo. I can’t make any guarantees. It’s not like you automatically get me as a prize if you put enough time in. It doesn’t work like that. I need to see how _I_ feel. Which isn’t the easiest fucking thing lately.”

Sam sounded like he was hurting, and Goku reacted. With how Sam sat you couldn’t get past his folded up knees to the rest of him, so Goku went around and hugged him from behind. Sam stiffened, wary as a wild animal, but just as Goku started to think he’d made a big mistake and might have to fend off a major swatting Sam relaxed back a little. This worked with Sanzo sometimes: a bold, sudden move to get you into his space, then going still and unthreatening once there to show him he could let you stay there.

Happy to see and feel Sam accepting his comforting, Goku set his chin atop Sam’s soft hair and closed his eyes to enjoy the moment and block out the distractions of his looks and just _be_ with the person he’d loved forever. “Close your eyes, be _quiet_, and see what you find,” Sanzo had said ages ago. Goku could never do it for long, but it was a nice vacation now and then. Sam felt so warm. Prior to having Sam in his life, Goku’s most recent experiences of touching Sanzo had been handling his cold corpse.

“I just got you,” Goku said. “Don’t leave. Please. We’ll think of something.”

“Stop pressing on my brain,” Sam answered. “I get it. I’ll stay. For now.” He breathed out, then said, “I’m gonna take a shower and get out of this getup. Good night, Goku.”

Goku let him go. It was always tough figuring which times you should let Sanzo go versus which times you should hold on no matter how much he protested. There was only so far Sanzo could be pushed.

Things would get better once everyone settled down. Goku hoped.

  


* * *

Tim was surprised to see Ravi at his door, especially so early in the evening, and worried more when he saw the look on Ravi’s face. What could have happened? Had Sam been hit by a bus? No, that sounded too dramatic. And if he’d been arrested, surely Ravi would be in lockup with him.

“I kissed him, Tim. I’m so sorry. Even after I told myself I wouldn’t make a move on him. We got in this fight with two bruisers, and we kicked their asses, which got our adrenaline up like you would not believe, then we got thrown out and I kissed him. We kissed each other, actually, for a few minutes before we regained our sanity and broke apart, but I’m _sorry_, Tim. How can I make it up to you?”

It took Tim a minute to make sense of the outpouring. Even years of teaching excitable young adults had given him only a slight edge on translation. Then he felt relief. No accidents, no arrests, no illicit sex. Then he felt a dark rage that there’d been a kiss. Then he felt ridiculous for being angry, especially since Ravi looked as if he’d been lashing himself with guilt long before he’d arrived here. One kiss given in the heat of the moment, and he’d come running here to confess and seek absolution, with no excuses or attitude offered. He seemed to expect and even want punishment.

Ravi said that his family hadn’t done more than be verbally dismissive of him, which could hurt enough, but something in his manner, particularly the way he steeled himself or flinched sometimes, suggested that someone used to smack him around. A former lover, perhaps?

Tim had realized a while ago that he just about owned Ravi, which had amazed him. Through the vastness of his heart and loyalty, Ravi would do anything for the people he loved. Fortunately, there weren’t too many of those. Tim recognized Ravi’s love for him as a responsibility as well as a gift, something he should treasure and not take advantage of.

“I’m hurt, but I forgive you,” Tim said.

Ravi looked stunned and a tiny bit hopeful, but he also looked as if he expected some kind of trick. It would hurt if Tim hadn’t suspected abuse in Ravi’s past. “Thanks. I don’t-- Thanks.”

Hoping to inject a bit of humor in to defuse the situation, Tim said, “I mean it. But I have to kiss Sam now to make it even.” Humorous or not, the idea made him unwillingly intrigued. He _really_ had no right to be angry with Ravi.

“Hey! Oh, hey.” Ravi smiled a little as he obviously enjoyed some mental pictures.

“You’re not supposed to be happy with that,” Tim answered, although he felt his lips quirk upward, smile-ward.

“You’re a hottie, Tim, so the sight of you kissing other hot guys is hot. You have to accept it.”

“No such thing.”

“Though you better make sure Sam is willing.”

Tim started to ask if Sam had been willing for Ravi, then kept it to himself. Of course Sam had been willing. Ravi wouldn’t have kissed him otherwise. “I will. Even if you’re not serious.”

Ravi only smiled a little, still somewhat cautious. Then he said, “Wait a minute. I want you to take a look at this.” He handed his cell phone to Tim. “Look at the picture.”

Oh. My. Tim’s breath caught. Sam dressed like that would have tempted many people to sin. But it was more than that. The tight black, the high gloves, the way Sam looked out from under his overlong blond bangs.... Tim thought he looked hot but also felt the need to make sure he wasn’t letting the stress get to him too much, since he never had the ability to handle it well.

Who had they been to each other?

“You too,” Ravi said, sounding relieved. “You should have seen the look on Goku’s face. I couldn’t see the one on mine, of course, but it must have been some sight from how it felt. We’ve seen Sam looking like that before.”

“Yes. Where, I have no idea, but yes.”

“So I’m not going crazy. Or at least if I’m crazy I’m not going crazy alone.”

“I’m incapable of leaving you alone.”

That finally brought a pure smile to Ravi’s face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Though you’re not getting any sex tonight.”

“What? Aw! I didn’t get any from him either.”

“I have to maintain some standards, or chaos ensues.”

“It’s okay, as long as we’re okay.”

Tim had to hug him when he had that look on his face, so he did. “I do love you. But you’ll have to sleep on the couch.”

“You and your standards.”

“Just kidding. I want you with me. There might even be sex if you convince me well enough.”

Ravi turned instantly slinkier. “I am a master of persuasion.”

“We’ll see.”

A distraction from his current odd thoughts would be very welcome, and Ravi was a master of distraction. Tim hadn’t enjoyed distraction quite so much before meeting him.

  


* * *

Goku had left a note that he’d gone to get breakfast and would be back soon. The note also commanded Sam not to brood. How could Sam not brood? The possibility of being gay or bisexual might not bother him much, but he’d kissed _Ravi_ and enjoyed it. Some diseased part of his brain found Ravi attractive. Worse, by the time they saw each other again the pervert would probably be completely finished with shame and regret and back to full smirking strength over his “prowess” and Sam’s weakness. If Tim found out about what had happened.... Actually, Sam couldn’t imagine what might happen if Tim found out. Sometimes Tim seemed like the type to take things lightly, but at other times you wondered where he stored the bodies and in how many pieces.

Sam needed a beer. Or several.

He was a moron. A moron who’d let the monkey convince him to stay when the whole point of going out with Ravi had been to let the inevitable disaster ensue and give him a perfect excuse to leave. He’d probably have a lot of brooding to come.

His arms felt naked and vulnerable without the gloves.

Sam shuffled across the kitchen floor in embroidered house slippers Goku had given him. Goku himself never wore slippers, probably because the bottom of his feet looked like they had the hardness of stone so why bother? Maybe hard, callused feet were inevitable when you were that old.

That old. How did Goku deal with it, caring about people the way he did and watching them die over and over? How could he still be so cheerful? Sam didn’t care about many people. It was safer not to care: nobody to mourn, and nobody to mourn you when you were gone.

He had too much time to think. Uncle always found him something awful to do if he said anything about being bored, but here he was bored. Goku brought newspapers in the morning, but Sam had already read all the ones in the apartment. Goku’s own tastes in reading material tended toward things about food. Had a real fetish.

Ew. Sam wished his brain hadn’t gone there.

“You’re all broody. I left you alone too long,” Goku said as he came in the door with several bags of groceries.

Goku talked as he cooked and talked as they ate, which made it hard to squeeze a good fit of brooding in. Although Sam threatened to smack him with a rolled-up newspaper if he didn’t shut up for at least a little while, Goku just laughed. And kept laughing when Sam did smack him.

After they finished their breakfast of eggs, bacon, toast, and ramen, Goku said, “Today I’m taking you out to see a bit of Chicago.”

“I’m not a tourist.”

“Nope, you’re not, because you’ll be sticking around, which tourists don’t do. It’ll be fun, something you need more of.”

Sam _had_ been bored.

They ended up taking a bus to Navy Pier. At first Sam felt insulted that Goku took him through Time Escape and the Amazing Chicago funhouse like he was some kind of a kid, but then he saw that _Goku_ enjoyed this stuff. Didn’t do the Ferris wheel or the swing ride, though, and got a sad look on his face when Sam asked about it. “I used to go that high all on my own,” the monkey said, then put on a cheerful face and made a beeline for McDonald’s, refusing to say anything else about it.

Still, overall the pier was kind of cool in a dorky way. Hard to get bored with ADD boy as your guide, when a talk about local attractions turned out to sound a lot like “And then there’s-- oh! Shish-ka-bob! Yummy! We have to have some.” Admitting that he’d never eaten shish-ka-bob led to Sam being given his own tasty meat on a stick even though he protested, “I can pay!”

“You haven’t gotten your paycheck yet. Chill. Besides, I shamelessly sponged off you for food and board for ages, so shut up.”

For some reason Goku seemed uncomfortable in the Smith Museum of Stained Glass Windows. Sam loved it. Actually Sam really liking it seemed to be what made Goku uneasy.

But really the thing Sam enjoyed most was walking out in the afternoon sun on the pier near all that water. Grandpa had taken him to Florida once, and he remembered spending almost all of his time swimming and fishing. “Could have been born a fish, Moses,” Grandpa had said with a smile, and Sam had answered that with all the fishing he did he’d be a _cannibal_ fish.

“You okay, Sam?” Goku asked.

“Yeah.”

On his long walk west the sun had baked him and blazed through his skin, burning him alive even with sunscreen and the darker color roofing work had given him, but the sunshine felt good now.

Tango music played from Goku’s cell phone, so Goku detached it from his belt and asked, “What, Ravi? C’mon, who else calls me? This better be good news. Yeah. That’s great news! Aw, shit, that sucks.”

“What?” Sam asked.

“Ravi says you have to come to the Fifty-eight. The police found that lady’s baby alive in Skokie and she wants to thank you.”

“Hell no!”

“Ravi says to suck it up and take your thanks like a man. Oh, and that she said she’s going to keep coming back until she sees you, so the Dragon wants you to come in and get it over with now. Her buying drinks and snacks won’t outweigh her sitting around being a distraction.”

“He’s not _my_ boss.”

Goku actually looked annoyed. “He’s mine, though. Sam....”

Fine. “All right. To get it over with. And I’m not gonna stand there and just take it if she gets huggy or gushy. No way. It’s in and out.” Thank God Ravi hadn’t heard him say that because it would have guaranteed a perverted comment.

“Great!” Goku said into the phone, “We’re coming in. We just have to take a bus back.”

Sam tried not to think about it on the ride back. He might be glad that she’d found the kid, for his own sake with the police as well as hers, but he didn’t want to be part of some scene. People got freaky and stopped thinking when they got emotional.

“You look like you’re going to your death,” Goku said as they walked into the lounge.

“I just want to get this over with.”

“She won’t do anything bad to you.”

“Because you’ll protect me?” Sam answered sarcastically.

“If I have to.” Goku sounded completely serious.

“I don’t need it.”

“I know. I’d do it anyway. Because that’s what should be done.”

Sam wondered how many living people had any idea who Goku really was inside. Then he had a happy mother, with child, up in his face, saying, “This is Elise. She was in Skokie, just like you said! We caught that woman, and she’ll be going on trial for what she’s done. Thank you so much!” At least with a child in her arms she couldn’t grab him.

“I’m glad it worked out,” Sam said, uncomfortable under the gratitude. “Uh, she’s cute.” Things might have gotten messy for _him_ if his tip hadn’t come in time to save the kid.

“Isn’t she? She’s mommy’s little girl!”

Ravi nudged him and put a damned wrist strip on him. “See? Everything worked out after all.”

Sam stiffened at the sudden feel of a familiar presence approaching. “Yeah? See if you can still say that after the cop talks to me.”

“Cop? What are you-- Oh, shit. He wasn’t here!”

“I called my brother when Ravi here told me you were coming in to accept my thanks,” the woman said. “It’s nothing to worry about. He just wants to thank you too. He’s my brother, Elise’s uncle, you know.”

That wasn’t why the cop was here, but if Sam ran now it would look bad. “Sure,” Sam said and put his hand on Goku’s arm because he didn’t know if Goku realized he was snarling under his breath. “I’ll accept his thanks.”

Ravi got it. “Sam--”

“He’s a cop, and I haven’t done anything wrong. Nobody’s going to do anything.” Yet. Nor should they. Sam directed a look at Ravi telling him not to do anything to give the cop an excuse. They shouldn’t panic until they _knew_ the cop was taking Sam in for something.

From his expression, Ravi understood, but he still said, “Shit.”

“I know you didn’t know. Moron.”

“There’s nothing to worry about,” the woman said, sounding so earnest. “You helped us so much.”

“Sure.” No way in hell would Sam go to jail for killing that bastard trucker in self-defense. Why the hell couldn’t he see the future so he’d know what the cop wanted instead of having to guess? Seeing the future would be more useful.

“Mr. Wojnarowski, thanks for helping us find her. I want to talk to you privately,” the cop said. The request sounded more like an order.

“Yeah, sure.” Sam noticed Ravi on his cell phone, probably to call Tim, not that Tim could really get here in time or could do more than try to talk the cop around even if he did.

Goku obviously wanted to go somewhere private _with_ them but stayed back at Sam’s look. He didn’t know how well Goku could control his temper if he thought Sam was in danger, and self-defense had more consequences in this day and age.

“You look uncomfortable,” the cop said once they reached a back corner of the lounge and everyone had cleared away in a hurry. The guy was fishing. It gave Sam some hope.

“No more than your usual teenager, I’d figure. Besides, that reading... wasn’t easy. It hurt.” Could he possibly play on some sense of guilt with this guy?

“I’m sorry.” He did sound a little sorry. “What you gave us let us find Elise and bring her kidnapper to justice. We wouldn’t have found her so quickly without you. We might not have found her at all.”

“I’m glad it worked out.”

“I want to know if we can hire you as a consultant on occasions like these, on cases where it’s all gone cold.”

Sam should have expected something like this. “I... don’t know.”

“We’re keeping your input out of the reports on this one, finding other ways to show the connections that let us find Elise, and we’d do the same thing on any future cases we brought you in on. We don’t _want_ the public to find out about you, so you don’t have to worry about your privacy.”

He didn’t want to have anything to do with cops, but how could he possibly get out of this gracefully? “Look, officer, you don’t want me involved at all. Maybe the lady told you the reaction people had to my little show. If she didn’t, I’ll let you know that it freaked them out, and Goku had to get me out of here before things really turned ugly. I never should have let myself get talked into doing it, but.... I’d hoped that things might be better in a big city instead of the small town I grew up in, but they weren’t. People back home didn’t know how to deal with me and my... outbursts, so they sent me to a shrink and put me on drugs.” Sam decided to take a risk that could either cover his tail about his past or cause more trouble. He didn’t know for sure. “Some of the things I said got me in trouble with the local police. You want anyone to see you getting tips from a kid with a record like that? I don’t think so.”

“I figured you were a runaway. It’s okay. Chicago isn’t some small town where people have narrow minds.”

Sam had to fight a smile off his face, having hoped that shot would hit some kind of hometown pride. “That’s what I hoped.”

“Really, we’ll keep you out of records and trials. This won’t be steady work, just the cases that have really baffled us and gone cold. We won’t put you at murder scenes either. We’d pay on a case-by-case basis, under the table. We’ve had people work with us unofficially before.”

If they couldn’t be dissuaded totally, maybe he should help the police. It might be good camouflage. “I’d have to let Tim look at any offers. Tim’s the professor who went with me before. If we think something would be too dangerous for me, we have to have the right to refuse it too. I felt like crap for a day afterwards because I had to push myself so hard to get what you wanted.” Remind the guy that Sam was only 18, still kind of a kid, so he’d feel bad about trying to corner and get a decision out of Sam while they were alone.

“All right. That seems reasonable. We’ll be in touch when we need you.”

“All right.”

“Thanks again for helping us find Elise. That was a good thing you did.”

“I’m glad she’s back home.” But Sam didn’t start to breathe easily again until the guy left with his sister.

“Well?” Ravi asked when Sam reached the bar. Goku and Tim sat around there too. They all looked worried.

“I got a kind of consulting job.” Sam didn’t go into any more detail because he figured they’d understand what kind. “I told him that Tim would have to take a look at offers too before we’d accept any.”

“Smart bargaining,” Tim said.

“You won’t be the oddest guy they ever had helping them fight crime,” Ravi said. “There was the Mountie for a while.”

“There was a _Mountie_?” Sam had to ask.

“Oh yeah. Real Mountie from Canada. Even had a wolf. Always putting his nose in on crime. He was in the news a lot, particularly on slow days. Haven’t heard much about him in years.”

“Maybe he got his man and returned home,” Tim said with a small smile.

“I can relate,” Ravi purred.

“Get a room,” Goku said, his nose wrinkling in disgust.

At least Ravi and Tim seemed to be okay about that kiss last night, and Ravi wasn’t being more obnoxious or smug to him. The lack of awkwardness made Sam feel a lot less apprehensive. Or was Tim still in the dark about that? Shit, that thought made Sam stupidly nervous all over again. Still, he couldn’t exactly ask about it. Instead he said, “Seems like a lot of people here tonight.”

“Yeah, Ted’s band is doing their _American Idol_ thing in less than two hours, trying out possible new lead singers,” Ravi answered. “I thought it seemed kind of soon, but Ted said that Chris has a bug up his ass about how they’re losing gigs.”

“Why doesn’t one of them sing?”

“They’re _musicians_. It would take away from playing their instruments if they sang lead at the same time.” Ravi rolled his eyes. “Anyway, they have some folks they already vetted through and have left things open for anyone in the audience to try out too. Tonight might be pretty painful at times. Probably funny, though.”

“Sam, you should try!” Goku said. “You have a great voice.”

“Actually, you do have a pretty good voice,” Ravi said.

The temptation burned. Didn’t everyone have fantasies of being a rock star? Unlike a lot of people, he actually had a decent voice. But.... “Haven’t I drawn enough attention to myself lately? I don’t even know these people or their music. Why would I want to work with them?”

“You could always meet them now. Or at least once they finish bringing their stuff in and setting up.”

As Sam watched the band walk in carrying cases and equipment he realized that he knew them and grudgingly liked them a little. Sometimes. He also knew that he would be clashing with that guy who had black and red hair all the time even though he didn’t quite know who they had been. “Ravi, what’s up with that guy having the same hair as you do?” They resembled each other a little. Again. It was freaky.

“Oh, come on. His is streaked. Mine’s much more subtle.”

“Prettier too,” Tim said.

“I have the best guy in the world.”

“Take care to remember that.”

Goku put a piece of pizza on a paper plate down in front of Sam, and it smelled really good. “I guess I could stay a bit,” Sam said.

“You have to stay!” Ravi said. “We could make fun of the contestants.”

Maybe it made him weak, but Sam was curious to see more of these people, and being out with Goku earlier had left him kind of hungry for something. Company maybe. “I’ll stay.”

  


* * *

“Hey, Tim, when did you start working here?” Ted asked as Tim brought him a bottle of water.

“Since never, but Ravi can’t get out from behind the bar at the moment and Karen has her hands full with the tables.” Tim didn’t mind fetching and carrying a bit, especially while Ravi was so distracted working.

“Thanks. Setting up is thirsty work.”

“That’s for sure!” Robbie said as he dashed past and snagged a bottle for himself on his way to his drum kit. “You have any food?”

“You’ll have to order that,” Tim said.

“And pay for it,” their female bass player said.

“Awwww.”

The band had a small fortress of cases and equipment but seemed to be taking it out and putting it together neatly. Ravi said that they always had their own positions on stage worked out in advance and set up accordingly. Various cords had been bundled together and taped down to the floor of the stage in places so no one would trip over them. Tim couldn’t help finding this foreign world interesting.

“What the hell is Chris doing with _her_?” Ted asked suddenly.

Tim turned to see Chris talking to that woman Ravi found so unsettling. “Ravi doesn’t like her.”

“Neither do we. I’m sure she designs drugs for the guy who hooked our lead singer.”

Setting aside the urge to say that they had to let the man accept responsibility for actually taking the drugs, Tim asked, “She _designs_ drugs?”

“Yeah. The stuff you cook up. We’re sure of it but can’t actually prove it. Never caught her or her guy dealing here either, so we can’t get her kicked out. Damn it, Chris better not be over there trying to be a hero.”

“It would appear not, because he’s leaving her.” To walk toward Sam. What the hell was going on? “Excuse me.”

Tim reached them in time to hear Sam ask, “...why would you ask me?”

“Goku says you sing. In the shower,” Chris answered with a smirk. “I want to hear it.”

“I don’t want to join a band.”

“So sing for our warm-up. Haven’t you always wanted to go up on a stage and try something like that? Or are you just too afraid?”

“So if I don’t do it I’m chicken?” Sam sneered.

“You should show him, Sam,” Goku said. “Make him eat his words. Sam could blow you off the stage, Chris.”

Sam looked annoyed but also thoughtful. “Did somebody put you up to this... Chris?”

“No. Just curious,” Chris said. Tim didn’t know him that well, but he didn’t seem to be quite himself.

“All right. But I’m not joining your band. I just wanna sing.”

“Who says we’d accept you anyway?”

“What do I have to sing?”

Chris handed him a sheet of paper. “This lists the choices we’re giving people. You know any of these?”

“Good choices.” Sam sounded grudging. “You have ‘Passive’ in here? It won’t be the same without the piano part.”

“We have a DAT tape for the background stuff we can’t do ourselves.”

“Smart, if you don’t mind cheating.”

“That shows how little you know about live music. Are you in?”

“Yeah. I’ll do ‘Passive.’”

“We have a little more to do on our sound check. When the time comes, we’ll motion you to come up on stage.” Chris turned and left.

“What the hell was that?” Ravi asked.

“Bitch fight,” Sam murmured, watching as Ted argued with Chris onstage.

“You’ll kick ass, Sam,” Goku said proudly.

Tim had a feeling that something had gone wrong here, even though he couldn’t put his finger on what. Ravi looked as disturbed as he felt. Sam just looked somewhat nervous.

  


* * *

When that asshole waved him up, Sam took a deep breath and wrapped Mom’s rosary around his right wrist. It would just be the warm-up, and a lot of the audience hadn’t even arrived yet. This meant nothing. He couldn’t believe that, though, not with Goku, Ravi, and Tim watching and listening. Not with how much this somehow felt like an ambush.

The hell. Sometimes you had to stand up.

A Perfect Circle’s “Passive” was a good choice, since he liked that song and the vocals started off soft before hitting 11. Of course, it would still be something of a workout once he got into it, since Maynard James Keenan could actually sing.

When Sam reached the stage, Ted said into a microphone, “This is just the warm-up, folks. This one isn’t up for a vote.”

Sam fought down a sigh and nervousness. Damn, the lights felt hot. Chris sneered at him, so Sam flipped him off.

“Give a ‘check, one two’ into the microphone to test it,” Ted said.

“All right.” Sam took the microphone in hand and said into it, “Check, one two. Check.”

“The vocals are too hot,” some guy yelled from a distance away.

“Then fix them, Poppa,” the bass player yelled back. “Try again.”

“Check, one two,” Sam said again, feeling self-conscious.

“Better!” the guy yelled.

“All right,” Chris said. “We start up. If you know the song, Sam, just do the song.”

“Yeah, sure, I know the fucking song. I requested it,” Sam answered, carefully avoiding the microphone, seeing his friends and a few curious faces in the crowd but mostly just people drinking and talking, not paying attention.

The guitar started playing. Okay, this was for real. Sam listened, letting the sound thrum through his body, and then everybody started to kick in with their instruments. He listened, counting, until the time came when he should start to sing.

For a terrifying moment his brain blanked out completely, but then the words started coming. “‘Dead as dead can be,’ / The doctor tells me / But I just can’t believe him / Ever the optimistic one / I’m sure of / Your ability / To become my perfect enemy....”

He sang it like Maynard did, letting his voice vibrate on the notes, and _felt_ it vibrate and rumble within his body as he sang from his gut. At least his voice came out. He’d worried that he’d just croak and look like an idiot. The lines of words were so linked in his head that once he sang one line the next _had_ to follow out his mouth.

“Wake up and face me. / Don’t play dead / ‘Cause maybe / Someday I will walk away and say, / ‘You disappoint me / Maybe you’re better off this way.’

“Leaning over you here, / Cold and catatonic, / I catch a brief reflection / What you could and might have been. / It’s your right and your ability / To become my perfect enemy!”

The audience didn’t seem real anymore, but he did see more members watching and listening now. He felt good, warm and bright on the inside, and his voice came out strong, so strong that he might not actually need the microphone. He could feel the cross on Mom’s rosary swing as he moved his arm.

The band actually came in singing, almost shouting, on the chorus, which he hadn’t been sure they’d do, so he let them take the main lines while he played around them like in the actual song. Lirin couldn’t sing worth shit, but the voice itself didn’t seem to matter much right now, not as much as the sound and power and will. His uncle had always told him to sit down and shut up, but nothing could shut him up or down now, and it was damned good. Sam felt it all flowing through his body.

“Wake up!” Kougaiji, Dokugakuji, Yaone, and Lirin sang/shouted.  
“Why can’t you?” Sam sang.  
“And face me!”  
“Come on now.”  
“Don’t play dead!”  
“Don’t play dead.”  
“‘Cause maybe!”  
“Because maybe.”  
“Someday--”  
“Someday--”  
Together they all sang, “I will walk away and say, / ‘You disappoint me / Maybe you’re better off this way’....”

They let him take it alone again as he sang, “Maybe you’re better off this way / Maybe you’re better off this way / Maybe you’re better off this way / You’re better off this / You’re better off this....” Sam put a shout and growl on the next line, directing it to the part of the audience that it felt right to direct it to. “Maybe you’re better off!”

By now he trusted Kougaiji’s people to come in where they should. They’d always worked well with him when they saw an advantage in it.

“Wake up!” Kougaiji’s group shouted, oddly to the same part of the audience Sam had started to direct his voice and will to.  
“Why can’t you?” Sam sang harder, feeling the channels inside him open as power built in him and from them.  
“And face me!”  
“Come on now.”  
“Don’t play dead!”  
“Don’t play dead.”  
“‘Cause maybe!”  
“Because maybe.”  
“Someday--”  
“Someday--”  
Together they all sang, “I will walk away and say, / ‘You fucking disappoint me! / Maybe you’re better off this way!’”

Sam put everything he had into the next lines, “Go ahead and play dead!” There was one woman he couldn’t help focusing on, even though he had no idea why.  
“Go!” Kougaiji, Dokugakuji, Yaone, and Lirin sang/shouted.  
“I know that you can hear this!”  
“Go!”  
“Go ahead and play dead!”  
“Go!”  
“Why can’t you turn and face me!”  
“Go away!”  
“Why can’t you turn and face me!”  
“Away!”  
“Why can’t you turn and face me!”  
“Away!”  
“Why can’t you turn and face me!”  
“You!”  
“You fucking disappoint me!” Sam shouted, feeling the power and heat inside him, the words that wanted to come, everything trembling on the edge of spilling out without control. He’d fought against this his whole life, almost every life. He had to shut it down. He had to shut it down _now_.

And the song would let him do that, thankfully. The others’ voices dropped away, leaving only his voice, nearly breathless, whispering the final words, “Passive-aggressive bullshit,” over and over, softer and softer, until finally no sound or power remained at all, just the buzz of microphones and amplifiers. Only then did he realize that he knelt on the stage, hollow and emptied, burning inside, tired and exhilarated, hunched over, with a dead quiet audience watching in shock.

No, not everyone watched in shock. The woman he’d sung to smiled, smug, and mouthed what sure as hell looked like “Got you” to him, before she waved and walked out the door. It left Sam chilled to the bone. She knew. She knew what they’d almost done. Maybe she’d even expected it.

So much for living quietly and not drawing attention. At this rate he’d have to avoid the Fifty-eight for the rest of his life.

Kougaiji... Chris stared at Sam. The whole band did, stunned. Had they felt it too? It looked like they had, though he couldn’t say if they’d recognized what it meant. The song hadn’t been a prayer or incantation to call up that kind of power, but it had been focused will summoned by a group of former demons, one an adept, who’d worked together for hundreds of years. What had been inside them responded to a display of what he had, and something had almost happened.

For a moment he was... larger, close to enlightened, and almost everyone he’d ever been, too much for one person to take, but then he faded and became himself again, Sam with a little something extra. Most of the knowledge faded too, but he didn’t mind that. It had been too much for him to process or even hold safely.

“Can we keep him, Chris?” the drummer finally asked, and the audience broke out of its shock and applauded.

“No,” Chris answered softly, while giving Sam a very odd look as if he almost remembered.

Definitely past time to get out of here. Sam jumped off the stage as Yaone made an announcement on her microphone reiterating that Sam hadn’t been part of the competition. People crowded around him to talk at and congratulate him anyway. As much as he wanted to punch his way free before they smothered him, he just murmured thanks and said he had to get out of there over and over. They didn’t really listen. To Sam’s relief, not that he’d admit it to anyone, Goku cut through the crowd and dragged Sam away, most of the people seemingly knowing Goku too well to think of messing with him and the rest getting elbowed or trod on.

“That was great!” Goku said. “You showed them.” His eyes looked gold instead of brown, and the pupils looked more like slits. Sam had definitely come too close to releasing... something. “I haven’t heard you sound like that in ages!”

“Since when?” Sam yelled back.

“Since you had the sutra!”

The only sutra Sam knew of was the _Kama Sutra_, and he really doubted Goku meant that. “Yeah.”

“You have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?”

“Not really. Look, I just want to get out of here. I can feel people looking at me.” Though at least none of them looked at him like that woman had.

Tim, nearby, said, “I can take Sam home.” He looked thoughtful. In a bad way.

“I don’t need a babysitter!”

“I’ll come back here once I know Sam’s situated.”

“It would make me feel better,” Goku said. “I’m ready to take some time off shift--”

Goku could be far too overprotective, so Sam said, “No, Tim’s fine.” He didn’t look forward to seeing if Tim knew about the kiss, because if he did Sam would probably hear about it on the way home, but even so it would be better to get it out of the way. Sam unwound his mother’s rosary from around his wrist and put it in his backpack, then said, “Let’s go.”

As soon as they were outside, Sam took in a deep breath of night air, then lit a cigarette. For a while they walked in blessed silence, until Tim ruined it by lightly asking, “Did you know that a Sanzo is a kind of ancient Buddhist high priest?”

“No, I didn’t. Though I can see how Goku could mistake me for one considering my drinking, smoking, swearing, and love of baby back ribs.”

“Everybody loves baby back ribs.”

“Goku doesn’t strike me as a Buddhist either.”

“You recently explained the concept of muichimotsu to me.”

“Tim, everybody who gets a past life reading gets told they’re somebody important, like Cleopatra or some shit. If reincarnation works, there should be a hell of a lot of former farmers, peasants, slaves, and criminals out there.”

“I’ve been doing some research since Goku told us that he believes we’ve all been reincarnated.”

“I don’t think about it.”

“I’ve also been reading _Journey to the West_ since I met Goku. In it, there’s a monkey king character Goku might have gotten his name from, and the character has a Buddhist high priest as his companion.”

Better to be annoyed than worried or scared. “Tim, what are you fishing for?”

“I wanted to see if any of this sparked something for you, particularly after what you did tonight.”

“I sang.”

“It was more than that somehow. I can’t explain it. I might have a Catholic background but I don’t actually follow any religion. I believe in God, but not a belief structure or miracles or magic. But tonight... tonight I saw power, and I can’t explain it away.”

Sam needed to redirect the conversation immediately, since he couldn’t seem to bullshit Tim as well as he did other people. Ravi and Goku could be shrewd, but Tim was _uncanny_. “Why the hell did Chris ask me to come up on stage? Do you know? It just seemed out of character for him. He knows jack about me.”

“I think a woman put him up to it. Ravi and Ted have mentioned in the past that she’s somewhat creepy, and Ted believes she’s connected to a local drug lord, perhaps as a chemist.”

“Middle-aged woman? Dark-haired, with glasses?” Sam had to ask.

“Yes.”

“She mouthed ‘gotcha’ at me when I finished the song. She also looked like she wanted to eat my soul.”

Tim looked a bit disturbed but answered, “You’re an attractive young man.”

“My _soul_, Tim, not my body.” Not totally his body.

“I’ll have to keep this in mind.”

“She freaks Ravi out?”

“Yes. Just by being herself.” Tim’s expression changed.

“What?”

“Is there something you want to ask me about last night?”

Damn it. “What did Ravi tell you?”

“He mentioned a kiss.”

“Yeah. We got caught up in adrenaline after kicking some guys’ asses.”

“You’re not blaming Ravi?”

“Not for everything. I wasn’t exactly fighting him off.”

Tim smiled. “You sound so disgusted.”

“I’m better than that.” Since talking smack about Ravi would probably offend Tim, Sam said, “He’s your guy.”

“It is terribly unfair,” Tim said far too lightly.

Shit. “Get that look off your face.”

“What look?”

“That mild ‘reasonable’ expression you put on before you ask or guilt someone into doing something crazy.”

“Surely you haven’t known me long enough to be able to say that.”

“I know you.”

“You know me....” Tim appeared to be a sweet and sour mix of happiness and unease. “All right. What I’m about to ask seems reasonable to me.”

“That sounds like a definite prelude to craziness.”

“You kissed Ravi. I think it’s only fair that you kiss me as well to balance the scales.”

Yeah, craziness. Why was he everybody’s favorite chew toy lately? “How the hell does that balance things? That’s nuts. Besides, what I did with Ravi was totally unexpected, in the moment. This would all be premeditated. That makes it different, more.”

“Would that be a no?” So mild.

“Hell yes, it’s a no! Good night!” Sam answered as he opened the door to his building and slammed it shut behind him. God help him, he only knew crazy people.

But gods rarely helped anyone.


	3. Chapter 3

When Tim returned to the Fifty-eight, he winced at the caterwauling of the current contestant. The audience actually booed him and finally applauded loudly once he finished and left the stage. “I think I need a medicinal round of alcohol myself,” Ravi said to Tim as he came up to the bar.

“Has all of it been like that?” Tim asked.

“Nah, he was the worst. ‘Scuse me, Timmeh.”

Ravi sidled over to a waving customer. Tim noticed that people might give orders to Goku when Goku worked the bar but they far preferred Ravi. Then again, Ravi moved and poured with a liquid, sinuous flair, completely different from Goku’s simply efficient style. Tim couldn’t help noticing that people more often ordered drinks that needed the top-shelf liquors from Ravi, forcing him to stretch up a little and sometimes reveal a bit of skin between his waistband and the bottom of his shirt. Tonight Ravi wore a red silk shirt, black leather pants and knee-high boots, and a belt with hanging chain links, the links swaying and shining hypnotically. Customers often jockeyed and jostled each other in competition for a smile or compliment from him. Of course everyone wanted him.

Tim didn’t know how a simple and staid college professor like himself had enticed an exotic beauty like Ravi. Moths didn’t attract butterflies. And Ravi’s appeal went beyond looks. During slow times lovelorn drinkers latched onto him as if he were a life raft, grateful for his kind heart and ability to listen. How could Tim have thought to endanger this by asking for a kiss from Sam?

But he remembered Sam on stage too. Surely it had been the stage lights above and around him that had made him seem to blaze golden like a sun, but it had still created a provocative effect. His voice had been so clear, so powerful, and pierced to the heart. Although Tim had spoken to him of Buddhism, if Sam had been reincarnated it had to be in service to a far fiercer pantheon. He’d also seemed different walking off the stage, more... there. Tim lacked the words for it.

But none of that had intimidated him against asking for a kiss as if he had every right to expect one. How odd.

“Chris didn’t do himself any favors having Sam go on first and blow everyone out of the water,” Ravi said. They often had interrupted conversations of starts and stops while Ravi worked.

“No, he didn’t. That woman you dislike put him up to it.”

“Really? Why the hell did he listen to her?”

“I don’t know. Sam finds her disturbing as well.”

“Yeah? Shit. It’s too bad we can’t have her thrown out just for ‘disturbing’ people.” Ravi served another customer, then came back and said, “She has to do something more threatening or illegal to get punted.”

“I think she’s gone now anyway.”

“You think she knew what would happen?”

“Ravi, what _did_ happen?”

“Blondie didn’t just sing. I don’t know what the hell it was, but it wasn’t just singing. It just reached right into your soul and-- You ever hear Chris’ band sound like that either?”

“No.”

“There you go. Something happened. Damned if I know what it is. Goku looks thrilled though, almost high.”

“How odd.”

“Be back in a minute.” When Ravi returned he asked, “All right, what happened with Sam on the way home?”

“Did something have to happen?”

“That look on your face said it did.”

“Do I have a reasonable look?”

“Say what?”

“A mild, reasonable expression I put on before I try to guilt or talk someone into doing something crazy.”

Ravi laughed. “You sure do. C’mon, give.”

For a moment Tim thought of lying, but that idea made him feel even more sick, so he said, “I asked him if I could kiss him.”

A spasm of hurt went through Ravi’s face before the light, shallow mask came back down. “Dammit, I thought I asked you not to do that unless I was around to watch.”

Tim felt _low_. “I saw an opportunity.... I don’t know what came over me. He said no. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“I know what came over you.” Ravi shrugged, but didn’t quite look casual. “Yeah. Are we even now? Please?”

“_Yes_. Truly.” But it didn’t feel like enough. He didn’t usually believe in public displays but the situation warranted it, so he grabbed Ravi by his shirt and kissed him over the bar, stopping only when he heard the people around him start to hoot and cheer. Tim felt himself blushing a little as he let Ravi go. “We’re even. If you forgive me.”

Ravi licked his lips and smiled, to Tim’s relief and pleasure. “Yeah. All right.”

Tim stayed for another four hours, until the end of Ravi’s shift, although he didn’t spend much time near the bar distracting his boyfriend or being nudged or smiled at by other patrons. Kiss a bartender, and look what happens. None of the other contestants came close to what Sam had done, although the band finally picked a young woman Tim thought sounded very good.

As they walked out together, Ravi said, “Your car is so dull.”

It was a common complaint of his, almost a ritual. “It works.” Feeling light, Tim supplemented that usual answer with “I’m not going to pimp my ride for you.”

“Professor, some phrases should never cross your lips. That’s one of them.”

As Tim drove them home, he enjoyed the early morning quiet and the nearly deserted streets. The sun would be rising in two hours or so. Ravi said, “I’m gonna miss this.”

When Tim resumed his full course load he could hardly stay out all night at a lounge to drive his boyfriend home, at least not and retain the respect of his students’ parents. “I’ll miss it too.”

When they stopped at a red light, Ravi smirked and said, “C’mon, live a little. There’s no one around.”

“Laws are laws. Get behind me, Satan.”

“I don’t mind that. Nice view there. Shit, who are these guys?”

A group of about four big men rushed out and surrounded the car, stopping one at the back, one at the front, one on the front passenger side door, and the remaining one at the front driver’s side door. They all pulled out guns, and the two men on the sides tapped the windows with theirs. Tim didn’t know what they wanted and didn’t care to find out, so he slammed his foot down hard on the gas pedal. The man in front dodged a little out of the way but still got clipped by the side of the car, to Tim’s great satisfaction.

As they sped away, Ravi said, “Damn, but I love you!”

“That wasn’t too sociopathic?” Tim answered, relieved by his reaction.

“Hell, no. Especially since they’re on something. Trust me, I don’t wanna mess with junkies.” Ravi shook his head. “It’s too bad we can’t back over them.”

Tim heard a gunshot and then a small explosion from the back as a tire blew out. Riding the metal rim, the car slowed and became harder to steer no matter how hard Tim tried. One of the next two shots took out the other back tire. Ravi talked on his cell phone to what might be 911 from the sound of his side of the conversation. He sounded surprisingly calm considering the situation.

An SUV flew at them from seemingly out of nowhere, coming at them at an angle from the front. Tim reacted but couldn’t swerve enough, and the world exploded in sound and force.

He came to hurting all over, dazed, and pinned to his seat. The steering wheel airbag had deflated somewhat now. One of his glasses’ lenses had cracked. Streetlights glinted off shattered windows. “Ravi?” he asked. “Ravi?” Turning his head hurt, but he had to see him.

Ravi was motionless in his seat, head turned toward the side window, showing nothing of his face except the edge of the left side. Glass shards littered his shirt, lap, and hair. Dyed by the streetlights, that wetness on his face could be--

No. No! “Ravi!”

“Nnnn,” Ravi moaned softly.

Such a welcome sound, but Tim didn’t have time to be relieved. His seatbelt had locked down during impact, so he needed to find the release to get to Ravi, try to bring him back to consciousness, and drag them both away somehow. He might not know if that driver had been connected to their attackers, but they’d certainly take advantage of the crash either way.

One of them shot through Ravi’s window, fortunately aiming high just to break the window and not to hit Ravi, then shoved his gun through the empty space, putting the barrel near Ravi’s head. “Will you behave?” the man asked.

Tim wanted to kill them all, but he said, “I’ll behave.” His own window had already broken so one man only had to thrust the gun through to pistol-whip him out.

  


* * *

Goku hummed to himself when he entered his apartment as the sun started to rise. High as he felt, he could have kept on working for hours yet but he knew that kind of thing made bosses and coworkers look at you funny. After basking in Sam’s voice and power, he had enough energy inside him to run a whole city. All of his senses felt sharper, and he was _awake_. He’d spent _centuries_ without this, so long that he hadn’t realized how much duller, smaller, and washed out his life had become, especially in the last two centuries or so. It had been so hard to let Sam go home alone.

He could feel it starting to fade again already.

Even at night with the curtains closed the apartment never became completely dark, and with that and Goku’s enhanced eyesight he could see Sam sleeping on his side on the fold-out couch, body relaxed and sprawled, hair covering most of his face. Although Goku wanted nothing more than to lie down next to him and touch him, he just crouched beside and watched him.

“Stop looking at me,” Sam murmured sleepily into his pillow.

“Or you’ll smack me?” Goku asked, far from displeased with the idea.

“Yeah, though it never works. Think you like it too much.”

“Are you awake?”

“No,” Sam mumbled with a small smile. “Are you gonna lie down here or what?”

Goku’s heart sped up. “You want me in bed?”

“You can sleep. No perverted stuff or funny monkey business.”

Goku would take whatever he could get. “Okay.”

Lying next to Sam, Goku thought his heart would burst. Yeah, they’d shared a bed before, recently, but that had been a grudging thing. This time Sam had _invited_ him. Of course, Sam might be sleeptalking as a past self and might whip the crap out of Goku when he woke up but the whipping would be worth it. He set his nose to the back of Sam’s neck and breathed in, wanting to be closer to that wonderful scent. Did Sam really smell a bit different tonight or had Goku’s senses just temporarily improved so much? He didn’t know.

“Baka,” Sam murmured as he fidgeted. Goku let him move away a little but kept his hand on the bared skin on Sam’s hip where his T-shirt had pulled up, feeling Sam’s body warmth as a contrast to the air-conditioned cool of the dim room.

Everything he wanted was in reach; he could feel it. He just had to be patient.

  


* * *

Sam awoke to the phone ringing and mumbled curses to himself. People couldn’t let a guy _sleep_? Better get that, though.

He had a hand on his hip, branding a sliver of his bared skin with heat and radiating right through the cloth of his boxers. Goku. Sam vaguely remembered saying they could share a bed.

Phone rang some more. Think about it later.

Sam rolled out from under the hand, got out of bed, and answered the phone. “Hello?”

“Hi, Sam.” It was Carolyn, from the temp agency. “I have a job for you today. Can you take it?”

“Think so.”

“They called us and offered $16 an hour for you particularly. What are you doing for these people?”

That was higher than a standard administrative temp got offered. Had to be one of _those_ jobs. It must be somehow affiliated with the last company he’d done it for, or maybe someone had spoken too carelessly. He’d have to see how things went when he got there.

The urge to say that he pole-danced for them came and went. Not many people appreciated his sense of humor. “I have a gift for finding lost paperwork. I guess word gets around.”

“All right. Can you be there by 9:30?”

“Probably. Where is it?”

He took the address and directions from her, then dressed in a hurry. While he had a bun clenched between his teeth, he wrote out a note explaining where he’d gone and brought it to the fold-out couch. In his absence, Goku had rolled into the space he’d vacated and put his face into Sam’s pillow, snuffling happily. The sight made Sam’s stomach twist for reasons he didn’t understand. He pressed the sticky note to a nearby lampshade, slung his backpack over his shoulder, and walked out. The summer heat hit him like a hammer.

Once he reached his supervisor at the job he had immediate confirmation on the type of job just from how the guy alternated between staring at him and not being able to look at him. “You were recommended. They said you do amazing work. Unique.”

“That’s what I’m here to do. Work.” Bright-eyed and eager so wasn’t him. He hated the games.

As the guy led Sam around, he said softly, “We recently had a departure from the company and need you to find some paperwork for us in his office.”

Euphemistic propaganda that probably meant they had to fire that employee’s ass for incompetence and the guy left his badly-done paperwork every which way as a “fuck you.” “Okay.”

“We’ll give you four hours and see what you come up with. If you haven’t gotten anywhere by then we’ll let you go.”

The guy opened the door to a small office, and Sam gaped. Holy shit. This was where paperwork went to die. Stacks _everywhere_. Mountains. Some had fallen into each other of their own weight. Sam had to be pushed inside because his legs didn’t want to move him close to it. In his shock and horror he didn’t think of reprimanding the guy for touching him until half a minute after it happened, when it wouldn’t wash to say he’d snapped. He _hated_ the worker drone lifestyle.

“This lists what we’re looking for. I’ll leave you alone.” His supervisor handed him a piece of paper and closed the door, leaving him alone with _that_.

For a panicked moment Sam wanted to tear the door open and flee. Actually, that feeling didn’t go away, but he steeled himself to get to work. He refused to be intimidated by paper. Faster begun, faster done. Even if he did hate the nervous, furtive, sneaky feel of the last occupant that clung to the small office like a greasy film.

  


* * *

When Goku woke up alone, he sighed at the realization that Sam had snuck out on him again. He slept too well and deeply. Still, he felt great, even if he didn’t feel as powerful as he had last night. Yawning and stretching, he read Sam’s note and hoped Sam hadn’t gone out to do something stupid. He felt out into their link and got an impression of Sam in the middle of a ton of paper cursing up a storm. Administrative drudgework seemed to be his destiny.

Goku jumped up when the phone rang because he loved answering it. Why did people hate telemarketers so much? Goku loved talking to them, though they didn’t seem to enjoy it as much.

Caller ID showed the Dragon’s cell phone number. “Hi, boss, what’s up?” Goku asked. “If you need me to come in, I can.”

“Goku, I don’t want you to get overexcited by what I’m about to say,” the Dragon answered in a very serious voice.

“What happened?” He’d just checked on Sam a moment ago, so it couldn’t be that.

“The police found Tim’s car, and there’s no indication that he or Ravi made it home last night.”

“They were kidnapped?” But why?

“That’s what it looks like.”

The Dragon was a retired cop a lot of people owed favors to, which might be why he’d gotten notification on this already. He liked Ravi, despite all the evidence to the contrary, and adored Tim so he’d be pulling strings and calling in favors to get this kidnapping attention and, considering his talent for finding people, he might go out looking himself.

Goku couldn’t do anything to help. He didn’t know where they’d found the car, and the Dragon obviously wanted him to stay out of it. His sense of smell wasn’t as powerful as it used to be. None of his senses were. Still... “There has to be some way I can help!”

“No. Just... be cautious. We don’t know why they were taken. Someone might be aiming at the Fifty-eight’s staff for some crackheaded reason we don’t know yet.”

“I can’t stay home! I’ll go nuts!”

The Dragon sighed. “All right. I figured as much. I know you’re tough, but be as careful as you can, okay?”

It must have been a splashy crime scene if the Dragon had called to tell him, even knowing he’d want to do something “stupid,” instead of letting him find out somehow on his own. Maybe splashy enough to be on the TV news. “Sure. Look, I can’t stay inside so I gotta go out for a walk, but I’ll take my cell phone, okay?”

“Sure. Remember--”

“Yeah, yeah.” He’d had hundreds of years of people telling him not to do something rash or stupid, so he’d gotten a bit better about thinking first by now. “Bye.”

Goku went outside to walk and think but mostly to walk because thinking wasn’t getting him anywhere. He had no idea who would take Tim and Ravi or why. He’d worried about something happening to Sanzo, because something had always happened to Sanzo. Yeah, Tim had saved that girl from a thug a few weeks ago but the Dragon hadn’t heard much chatter on that. The girl had paid up after seeing a favorite teacher getting hurt over her, and the powers that be there seemed to be happy with that. Still, the Dragon would probably be looking into that too.

Goku really had nothing he could do, and he hated that. Only feeling Sam annoyed but safe in an office somewhere gave him any calm. At least the world hadn’t gone completely off the track.

Through the noise of the crowd and cars passing by he heard something familiar: gunshots and cries of pain. From behind him. As he spun around, two hot points of painful force hit his chest. Shit, it hurt. He looked down to see growing pools of red on his shirt and felt a growing feeling of weakness. He’d been so much more than this once....

People in front of his him screamed and got shoved aside as big men rushed toward him. One hit him with a tazer, which hurt in a way Goku had never felt before. Did people always use them at such high voltage? The other men hit him with baseball bats with a force and brutality that would have killed a human by now.

This was overkill. These guys somehow knew he wasn’t human and had come after him accordingly.

“Don’t knock the headband off!” one of them yelled.

He fought back and felt some of his attackers’ bones break under his blows, but they kept hitting him, mostly from a bit of distance, and he felt the world going black. “Nyoi-bo,” he coughed, but even though he could almost feel it in his hand it didn’t come. It hadn’t come when called for ages.

As he faded out, he felt himself being picked up and thrown into something, then movement. Then nothing.

  


* * *

Sam had found everything on the list within an hour and a half, although he’d suffered numerous papercuts and gotten hit with shifting piles of paper a few times. Actually, he’d pinpointed the locations faster than that but actually getting the right papers out of the mess had taken longer. He figured he’d hang out for about two hours and a half to get his money’s worth, but the small, overstuffed office set him on edge and he became so bored that he ended up sorting papers and labeling the piles with sticky notes to kill time. If the supervisor bitched he could say he did it as he looked for their targets. He still had an hour to kill.

Pain, disbelief, and _shame_ hit Sam like a hammer, blinding. He came to bent in half sitting on the floor, his pounding head resting against rough industrial carpeting, and the taste of blood in his mouth from biting his tongue. Reaching out through the abraded link, Sam vaguely felt Goku still alive but deeply unconscious. Someone had attacked him and taken him....

Sam grabbed his backpack and the small stack of papers his employer wanted and left the room at a fast walk toward his supervisor’s office. “You’re done?” the guy asked, surprised. Probably expected him to stretch out to the end of the four hours.

“Yes.” Sam put the papers down on his desk. “Everything you asked for, plus some credit card receipts I found that you might be interested in. I did some organizing as I went. Please sign my timesheet.”

The guy flipped through them, looking more and more surprised. “Yeah, sure.” He accepted the timesheet, signed, and gave it back. “Good work.”

“Thanks.” Sam faxed the sheet to his agency, then left as quickly as possible, not wanting to look too suspicious.

Once he hit the street he realized he didn’t even know what he could do. Even if he found the scene where it had happened, it felt like Goku had been taken away from there. If he tracked Goku to his current location, what would he do then? He knew nothing about the assailants. Why had they even attacked and kidnapped Goku?

He should get his gun first.

Sam got on the bus to go home, and his fingers drummed on his leg or the seat for the whole ride. He dashed off the bus at his stop and felt the buzz of something wrong throughout his walk home, even in the building’s foyer and on the staircase. Slowing down, he listened and _felt_, trying to find the wrongness or people setting him off like this.

He felt a few people waiting for him at the door to his apartment. They bled off anticipation and pent-up aggression in jagged lines of force. So much for getting his gun. The odds of getting through them, unlocking the apartment door, and getting back out of the apartment with his gun were too slim. Annoyed, he started walking back down the stairs, but he felt people waiting for him on the ground floor too now. Damn it. He walked quietly, trying to make as little noise in his damned work shoes as possible, and kept himself on the alert. At the last turn of stairs before the bottom, he listened hard and heard a bit of rustling and fidgeting. He jumped around the curve and slid down the last flight at high speed on the railing, then walloped them with his backpack as soon as he hit the floor running. Good thing he hadn’t packed his CD player or CDs today. He shrugged it back onto his shoulders and kept on running, deciding that all that practice on the railing at his uncle’s house had been worth the beatings afterward.

Someone tackled him once he got outside the front door, but he spun and wiggled free. Why were they so brazen, doing this out in the open by day? Some guys jumped him from behind, and although he felt one guy’s nose break under his punch someone else put a funny smelling cloth to his mouth. What a pathetic showing he’d made. Damn--

  


* * *

Groggy, Tim came to with his head pounding, arms and particularly wrists hurting, and the sound of Ravi yelling at somebody followed by a grunt of pain. What the hell was going on? He wore actual metal manacles with chains attaching him at his wrists and ankles, standing, against a bare concrete block wall. He didn’t see any windows, and the air had an acrid basement smell. A grinning armed man backed away from Ravi, who hung doubled over from his own manacles.

“Ravi!” Tim yelled.

“You want some too?” the man asked. “She said to keep you alive. Doesn’t mean we can’t knock you around.”

“I don’t want any,” Tim answered, trying to swallow down his rage.

He smelled a great deal of blood nearby, but from what he saw it didn’t seem to be on Ravi, to his relief. Ravi just--just!--had some dried blood on his face. Then Tim turned his head and saw Goku, whose shirt was brown and dark red with drying and fresh blood. His face looked misshapen with bruises and swelling, and he appeared to be unconscious but at least he was still breathing.

“Don’t get so upset. He’s tougher than he looks,” the gunman said, and something about the look in his eyes made Tim recall Ravi saying that the attackers were on drugs. “The boss was right about that.”

“Your boss is a loony!” Ravi said.

“She pays really well. Relax. It’ll all be over soon. Here we go.”

More men came in. One of them carried Sam over his shoulder. Behind them walked the woman Ravi had warned Tim about, the same one who’d talked Chris into putting Sam on stage. It made Tim feel a bit sick over the way he’d scoffed at Ravi back then.

Grinning, the woman ran her hand down Sam’s side, which made Tim and Ravi shudder in horrified reaction, then said, “Wake him. Make sure his friends are one of the first things he sees.”

  


* * *

Sam woke up with his head pounding and his mouth dry and tasting like something had died in it. What the hell had he done last night? Then he realized that strong grips on his arms and shoulders kept him upright. He opened his eyes. Ravi’s face and shirt had dried blood caked on in places, and the shifting sparkle on him came from little bits of broken glass. He was chained up to a fucking concrete wall. So was Tim, who was hanging next to him in somewhat better shape but his glasses had broken and he too was bloody and glass-studded. They both looked dazed and horrified. Goku--

Sam strained forward hard and fast but couldn’t get out of the grip on him. Struggling to slow down his breathing and heart rate, to look cool and controlled, Sam reminded himself that he still felt Goku. The monkey had gotten the shit kicked out of him and _shot_ but they hadn’t killed him. Goku was tough. Tougher than these bastards.

“They were pathetic,” a woman said from behind Sam, then came to stand in front of him. “Really diminished in this modern age. But none of us are who we used to be.”

He recognized the woman from last night but this close he _recognized_ her, and it hit him like a kick in the gut. This person had raped, tortured, and killed him over and over through lifetimes, always looking for something he/she didn’t deserve. “I hate boys who are too persistent,” Sam said angrily.

She adjusted her glasses and grinned. “This is the first time you remembered me this well. Maybe it’s the universe attempting to balance itself. Do you remember what I want, Kouryuu?”

“Something I’m never going to give you. And you don’t get to call me ‘Kouryuu.’”

“‘The Thirty-first of China, Genjo Sanzo’ is so long and formal. Besides, I knew you before you became a Sanzo. You’re Koumyou’s gift to me.”

Sam remembered bits of his master through the ages, right up to him being the weirdest but also coolest grandpa a kid could ask for. “Like _hell_.”

“Maybe you don’t know him as well as you think you do.”

“Maybe, but not where that’s concerned. He never owned or gave away people. But there’s no sense in arguing with you. You enjoy it too much.”

“Ah, you do remember.”

“How the hell have you stayed under Goku’s radar at the bar?”

“I was very cautious and just ordered drinks from the slut, who only has enough intuition to get jittery around me, which was amusing as hell.”

“Hey!” Ravi shouted, reminding Sam that they could hear all of this.

All of this. He had to get all of them out of all of this. He might not remember all of his tortures, rapes, and deaths in minute detail but knew more than enough to want anyone he cared about far away from here.

“How do _you_ remember?” Sam asked, trying to keep Nii talking to give him more time to analyze the situation and plan.

“The gods have several reasons why they forbid mixing magic and science. I know too much and remember everything.”

“Then earn your own damned sutra!”

“For some reason they don’t trust me with one. Looks like I’ll just have to force you to give me your two.”

“I don’t have anything, you stupid bitch! No one does anymore.”

“You can call them. You have a special bond to them that not even Koumyou can match. I tried with him too.”

Trying to yank away from the thugs holding him, Sam growled as he felt himself held securely. And why the hell were these guys listening to this shit so serenely? She sounded batshit. Then he realized that they didn’t feel right to him, dead inside and crazed, _hungry_. She’d addicted them to something, and they wouldn’t mess with the source of the most important thing in their lives.

“But I figured out he wasn’t the one.” She took a deep drag in on her cigarette. “I’ve hunted, isolated, experimented on, tortured, raped, and killed you so many times. In the end you had no friends or family or supporters, just you yourself, small and broken. I made sure of that.”

“But you still couldn’t get what you wanted.” Sam felt a vicious satisfaction in that.

“True. So it’s past time to change tactics. You don’t care what I do to you? That’s all right. I’ll start working out my aggressions on your...” she grinned, “_servants_ first. How kind of you to give me three of them. You’re a hard-shelled little sociopath, always have been, but you have a soft marshmallow center for a few, select people. I can make you watch me string them out for days. You know I would.”

Sam knew. From personal experience. One of the thugs wheeled in a cart displaying a wide array of blades, needles, bamboo slivers, pokers, and some metal things Sam couldn’t even guess the purpose of.

“Let’s start with the delicate humans first. If Goku starts coming to, we can always prod one of his bullet holes hard until he passes out again,” she said. “But which human? Decisions, decisions.” She picked up a knife and pointed it alternately at Tim and Ravi as if deciding. “The really fun thing is that no matter which of the two I start with, the other suffers too.”

If hatred and rage could kill, Tim would have already slain her on the spot. He looked _frightening_ with that hard, dark chill in his face and cold fire in his eyes. Ravi looked unhappy and defiant but almost serene in his obvious readiness to withstand whatever came at him. Hard to break. Underneath the softer modern layers they still had steel in their souls, and even through his horror at the whole situation Sam felt almost proud of them.

“I’m sure that anything you want is something you shouldn’t be allowed to have,” Tim said coldly.

“You’re so macho right now. In my experience, it doesn’t take long to change that.”

“Sam,” Ravi said, “don’t give this bitch anything she asks for.”

“I’ll start with you. You’ll break faster anyway,” she said. “Your face is too conventionally pretty.” She picked up and strapped onto her hand a metal piece that had three sharp, hooked “cat’s claws” coming off it. “Let’s give it some character. I already know that some scars will look good under your left eye and along your cheek. Remember that?”

“No.” But he did a bit, including the emotional baggage that went with it; Sam could see it in his eyes. Still, his voice stayed completely steady as he said, “Bring it on, bitch.”

“Leave him alone,” Tim growled.

“Or what?” She smirked. “You’ll glare me to death? You know, with Kouryuu in his life he’s already remembering things he wouldn’t have otherwise. I wonder if having another woman deal him the same set of wounds would bring all of that old history up again.”

“Don’t do it!” Sam said.

“You know what you have to do to make me stop.” One-handed, she grabbed Ravi by his hair. “Don’t thrash and struggle so much. It’ll just make the wounds more ragged, and I might take out your eye by accident. Wouldn’t that be a shame, especially if Sam decides to be a decent human being later and saves you from me. If it’ll help you hold still, think of me as your mother and tell yourself you deserve it for all the suffering you put me through.”

“Sam’s not making you do anything. I’m not making you do anything. It’s all you,” Ravi said as he still struggled.

“Easy to say. Not so easy to think while people you care for get ripped up in front of your face when you know that a few words from you can stop it. Not so easy to think when all your life something in the back of your head knows you don’t actually belong to your family and they resent you for it.”

Sam remembered inquisitions, torture sessions, _therapy_ with this... creature pulling out everything he was and felt and had ever experienced even when he couldn’t quite remember it himself because he’d been someone else, then twisting it all around until everything left jagged wounds. For the really bad, slow deaths, broken down, he’d always started to remember all the ones before it.

He couldn’t call up the sutras. Screw giving them to Nii, which would never happen, because just calling the sutras would change everything. He’d resisted for centuries. Block out Goku, so horribly wounded against mundane junkie assailants. Block out Tim, who appeared to be trying to pull his manacles out of the wall trying to get to Ravi but couldn’t do squat because he only had regular human strength. Block out Ravi, pinned in the grip of a half-remembered nightmare that would flay him alive if given half the chance. Block out how badly Nii deserved to die.

Ravi closed his eyes as the bitch set the tips of her shiny metal claws along his face, and something in Sam’s chest clenched. Never again.

  


* * *

Ravi would act the bad-ass and do the right thing by telling Sam to hold out, but no way in hell could he _watch_ her start to cut him open. Bad enough he’d have to feel it. Bad enough Tim and Sam would have to watch and listen. He liked his face as it was.

And this bitch was not his mother.

But _she_ hadn’t actually been his mother either, had she, and he’d been willing to lay down his life to fix hers....

What the hell was he thinking?

This bitch had been slicing up Sam and playing these kinds of mind games on him for centuries? Poor kid. Poor Goku, who had known who he was missing but probably not enough to make a difference. Hell, poor all of them, him and Tim too, going through lives not even knowing what part of them was missing.

Suddenly Ravi heard words like thunder rolling and the beating of what sounded like hundreds of wings. Or paper? And screams and laughter. He opened his eyes to see waves of undulating paper and the crazy bitch _laughing_ like she’d won even as her minions _disintegrated_ and she disintegrated with them at the touch of the streamers, her claws just lightly scratching Ravi’s skin before falling to the floor. If this was the kind of firepower they had on tap in the old days, no wonder the bitch had found their current selves to be pretty damned pathetic.

But while the storm of whatever-the-fuck seemed to be lethal to their attackers, the thunder words felt warm and soothing to Ravi, touching his soul or something. Something inside him stretched and healed and felt complete for the first time in forever. From the look on Tim’s face, he felt the same and happily drank it in.

Then the rivers of paper reeled backward like in some bizarre rewind and rolled into two scrolls, one in each of Sam’s hands. Weirdly, something about the whole scene reminded Ravi of that part in _Raiders of the Lost Ark_ after the Ark of the Covenant had melted the Nazis. Sam stood alone for a moment, both of his thug captors dead from crazy paper, then his eyes rolled up and he dropped to the floor on his side, out cold, the scrolls still clenched in his hands.

“Sam!” Ravi shouted, but Goku shouted, “_Sanzo_!” Goku didn’t look like Goku anymore. His hair had grown long and wild, his eyes had turned gold, and he had pointed ears and sharp nails. His bruises and swelling gone like he’d never had them, he yanked his manacles out of the wall like they meant nothing and rushed over to crouch by Sam’s side.

Ravi’s brain broke for a moment, then he rebuilt himself and yelled, “Hey, chimp, get us off the fucking wall too!”

“Sanzo,” Goku murmured as he cradled his beloved.

“You see how we rate,” Tim said with a small smile.

Tim was okay. They were all okay. If they could get Super Goku to set them free things would be even better. “Yo! Goku! Are you sure you wanna be moving him around like that when you don’t know if he’s injured? Maybe you should set him down carefully and get us loose so we can look at him for you?”

“Smooth,” Tim murmured with a laugh.

“That I am.”

“I’m glad you’re all right.”

“Ditto.”

“You were very brave.”

“Well.”

“I’m glad you’re all alive,” Sam said. “Now shut up. I hit my head on the floor. And, monkey, stop calling me ‘Sanzo.’”

Goku grinned, showing what looked like sharp teeth. “But you are! It’s officially your title now that you have the chakra again.”

“What? Oh shit. I don’t need this!”

“I don’t know what number of China you’d be now, but you’re definitely the first Sam Sanzo.”

“Ravi, is that a bindi on Sam’s forehead?” Tim asked.

“You’re asking me? I’m happily Americanized, and thus happily ignorant,” Ravi answered, although he knew Sam hadn’t had a chance to stick or mark anything on his skin before collapsing.

“Goku, are you all right?” Sam asked. “Can you dial it down a bit?”

“Sure!” Goku squeezed his eyes shut. Absolutely nothing else happened. “Or maybe not. I haven’t been this powerful for a long time! I’m not used to it anymore. Though it’s great!”

Ravi could swear the scrolls fluttered a bit, seeming almost annoyed, when Sam put them in his backpack. Sam brushed Goku’s long bangs aside to show some kind of... tiara or something, thin and gold-toned--had that always been there?--then he set his finger to it and it thickened a bit. Goku looked more like normal Goku again, although he still seemed to be on a sugar rush.

“You’re not gonna develop magic powers too, are ya, Tim?” Ravi had to ask.

“I don’t think so.”

“Good.”

“Stop being so fucking happy,” Sam said, sounding truly disgusted. “She got what she wanted.”

“We’re alive, and she’s atomized. Seems like a victory for the home team to me.”

“You don’t-- Those scrolls you saw shouldn’t be here anymore. They’re not part of what the world’s becoming. But to save all of your asses I ripped things open and yanked them back. Things are gonna wake up. I’ll have a neon sign on my back to anyone looking for power. And the bitch queen remembers her lives. Yeah, I nailed her today, but she’ll be reborn and come looking for me again because now she _knows_ I brought them back. I better start watching my back even more in about 15 years. What?” Sam suddenly asked Goku.

“15 years,” Goku said happily as he grabbed and hugged Sam tightly.

After flailing and growling for a little bit, Sam let him. Aw!

But Ravi flailed a bit and said, “Get us down from here!”

“I just reset the world’s balance to save your lives,” Sam answered with a smirk. “You should show more gratitude.”

Sam had let her kill him for centuries without giving up the whatsits, but for Ravi’s sake he’d caved in.... But still! “We’re so thankful, o great lord. Yes, your beneficence. Now free us already!”

The door blew in as if kicked. Ready to kick ass, Goku suddenly had some kind of long staff in his hand. Ravi didn’t know what to expect anymore.

Gun in hand, Bob stood at the door. “I got concerned over you for this?” Then he took a look at Goku and Sam. “You two get out of here. The non-retired cops will be here soon, and you don’t need the complications.”

“Boss!” Ravi said. “How the hell-- Oh, I give up.”

“I have a talent for finding things. Where’s the designer?”

“No one will ever see her or her thugs again,” Sam said.

“Shame about that, but it can’t be avoided, I guess. Now git.”

“What about us?” Ravi asked.

“You’ll have to stay there until the rest of the cops arrive to preserve as much of the scene as possible.”

“That sucks!”

“How do you put up with him?” Bob asked Tim.

“There are benefits,” Tim answered.

“Oh, funny,” Ravi muttered.

“The police found the remains of your car, Tim. I want the two of you looked at by doctors for injuries. Are you okay, Goku?”

“I’m great!” Goku answered, and the staff disappeared. “Me and Sam are leaving now.” And they did, damn them.

“Boss, this doesn’t faze you at all?” Ravi asked.

“I’m a city cop who became a bar owner. Nothing fazes me. Besides, I knew Goku wasn’t normal when I hired him. It‘s part of _why_ I hired him.”

It was just too much. If any other magical and amazing things happened, Ravi would just yawn, too numb. “I wanna sleep.”

“After you see the doctors. Don’t worry, rescue will be here soon.”

What came next?

  


* * *

Goku felt great. Strong! Connected to everything again. Yeah, the bullet wounds still hurt a bit, but they didn’t feel like _holes_ anymore. The Dragon would take care of Tim and Ravi, so Goku could have Sam all to himself.

Goku found a sink on the way out, which was cool since he figured they’d grab attention if he walked outside this bloody. “Hurry,” Sam said. “We have to get out before the police arrive, because stealth is so not our strong point.”

“Gotcha.” When Goku touched his new and improved limiter he felt a kind of pattern on it that he’d have to get a good look at later. Sanzo had made it for him.... He pulled his messy shirt off and soaked that too. Maybe it’d look less like blood if some of the dried stuff came out.

Or maybe not. Damn.

“Goku.” Sam just about vibrated with tension. His office clothes were messed up, the white shirt streaked with dirt and dust and untucked from his dirt-streaked pants. His long messy blond bangs parted a bit to show some of his red chakra mark. Chosen by the gods again. It had never given Sanzo any real benefits. The color of his eyes and structure of his face were different, but the feeling of weight and weariness and temper ready to snap was pure Sanzo.

Goku put his wet shirt on, hoping the summer heat would dry it, and raced out of the building with Sam. But once they got outside, Sam asked, “Where the hell are we?”

“Don’t know. I don’t think I’ve ever been in this part of the city before.”

“Damn it. I’m not in the mood to start walking.”

But they did it and eventually found a city bus with a driver they could ask directions from. At least Goku’s shirt looked more like an ugly fashion statement instead of the aftermath of a bloody asswhipping by then. That bus took them eventually to another bus and finally home.

Sam didn’t say much during the walk or ride, and he felt deep and full of dark thoughts, many more than before. How much had he remembered? While on the bus he’d mostly rested his head against the window, looking worn out. Goku understood not wanting to talk in public, but he worried. What had happened to force Sam to bring the sutras back? Goku hadn’t regained consciousness until Sam had bridged the gap and brought old-fashioned power back into the world. Just because Goku felt such joy at being more himself again didn’t mean Sam appreciated having the weight of the sutras on his shoulders again.

What if Sam didn’t want to have anything to do with him after this?

Overheated, Goku turned on the air conditioner for his comfort and Sam’s as soon as they entered the apartment. He appreciated some of the modern amenities.

“You should take a shower,” Sam said softly. “You still look like a mess.”

“You’ll be okay.”

“I should damn well hope so.”

Sanzo had never liked to feel crowded or coddled in any of his lives.

“All right.” Goku grabbed a pair of pants from his bedroom and walked into the bathroom. He hadn’t always cared about cleanliness but knew Sanzo preferred it.

Goku lifted his bangs off his forehead to get a look at his limiter, which he could still hide under his hair. It looked slim and delicate and now had a kind of wavy pattern on it. Pretty. When he took off his shirt he could see scabs and deep bruises where he’d been shot, and they actually hurt more again now that he’d seen them. He could heal them further if he took his limiter off for a little while, but did he dare? He might have gotten used to controlling his recent power levels, but he’d gotten stronger again, maybe too strong to hold back himself. His inability to go back to human looking on his own without the thicker limiter suggested--

“Try it and see,” Sam said through the door, scaring the crap out of Goku. Forgot how eerie Sanzo could be about things when he really listened to the world.

Goku pulled the limiter off.

Pain of change. Scent of blood, strong and close. Too many odd smells, acrid stink. Odd brightness, wrong. Smell of so much meat walking around outside babbling in various meat tongues. Urge to smash and rend, kill and kill and kill.

But so much meat! Could beat any one meat, could beat lots of anyones, but too much meat now and the meat had gotten tricky. The other self had seen the meat’s new claws. The other self had seen ages of no change and ages of too much change and through them all too much time alone.

On the other side of the wood could smell _him_, him who was meat but more than meat, him who was light. Him who had no claws, dull teeth, and less strength yet caged and weakened, although he could also set free. Him they wanted anyway and got separated from too often.

“I missed you,” the light said, easily heard through wood, in words only they and none of the other meat spoke anymore, then took the wood away, open to a claw strike if he could be reached.

Grab and hold him, who had no fear. Smelled like him and not like him, as always.

Didn’t like this world, only liked _him_ out of all of it. Let the other self have it, who moved through it easier. Better to ride and watch. Put the metal cage back on.

Goku came to with his arms around Sam. “Uhm.”

Sam smacked the back of his head. Lightly. It felt like a kiss. “Monkey.”

“I was good?” Proably, since Sam didn’t smell of blood or show a mark on him.

“You were fine. You also stink.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Cool! Goku took a quick shower, then when he came out in just jeans Sam went in. This might take a while longer.

He was so hungry! Sam would probably be hungry too. Too famished to wait, Goku devoured carrot sticks as he made... dinner? What time was it? Damn. Late. He hoped the Dragon made sure Tim and Ravi didn’t starve. Goku couldn’t help wondering if some of his old appetite would come back now.

Sam walked in wearing jeans and his slippers and with his backpack slung over one shoulder. Would he start carrying the sutras everywhere again?

To Goku’s continuing relief, Sam _ate_ and wasn’t as skinny as Sanzo had been in most of his lives. The bony physique Sam had shown after his long walk west appeared to be abnormal for him and was filling out. Sam was slim but _healthy_, and if Goku had his way Sam would stay like that. Care and feeding were his duty and privilege.

After a good dinner--though not _too_ good, so maybe Goku didn’t have to worry about being a bottomless pit again--Goku finally asked, “What the hell happened back there? I was out cold for most of it.”

Sam lit up a Marlboro and said flatly, “That bitch was Nii reborn and wanted the sutras. Through a lot of our lives Nii kept cutting me off from the rest of you, the better to break me, but I never broke enough to give in. This time she threatened you guys, and I snapped. She’ll be back.”

Nii.... Oh shit, _Nii_, the crazy scientist and former Sanzo. Kougaiji and Gyumaoh had been big trouble, but Nii Jiyani had been the most dangerous one of all. Afterwards, that name had been the one that put the deepest shadow over Sanzo’s expression, and Goku always got the feeling that it hadn’t just been from Nii nearly killing them.

“I didn’t know she was-- Sam--”

“I know. Bitch was careful around you and me. I don’t blame you.”

“Break you. What kind of things did Nii do to you?”

“You know some of it. He threw the Inquisition, soldiers, stupid civilians, and psychiatric patients at me, or kept me to himself. But it doesn’t matter because it’s over. Done. I don’t even remember the small details. My past lives are like things that happened in the far, far past, like how you don’t remember things so well from when you were a really young kid.”

“If it’s nothing much, why won’t you tell me much?”

“You’d just get upset for nothing. Stupid monkey. It’s not like anyone can do anything about any of that old business now. Now that I know, I’m staying on my guard for the next people who want to take a shot a me.” Sam blew out a stream of smoke. “Hey, call Bob to ask how Tim and Ravi are doing.”

“You’re just trying to distract me!”

“Yeah, but I also broke my record of holding out on Nii just to keep them safe so I wanna make sure they’re still safe, got it? Besides, it looked like they were wearing half of Tim’s front windows.”

“Grrr. I hate it when you have a good point.”

“You must hate it most of the time then.”

Goku called. “Hey, boss, it’s Goku. How are they doing?”

“Went through the questioning and they’re getting checked out at the hospital. I’ll get a call when they’re done. Do you want to come along to pick them up?”

“Of course I do! Sam too. Oh hey, Sam had a good point about them not having any clothes with them that aren’t full of glass.”

“I’ll be taking care of that. Don’t worry. I’ll call you, all right?”

“Yeah, yeah. Talk to you later. Bye!” To Sam, Goku said, “He thought of that.”

Sam nodded and stubbed out his cigarette. “You have any idea what we can do until we get the call?”

“I’m drawing a blank. Can’t really get anything started while we’re waiting for something that could come at any time. Guess we could watch a movie.”

“Something mindless.”

“Yeah, no real plot! I got some action movies. Paying attention to the plot on those is against the point anyway.”

Couldn’t really get into it, though. They sat on the couch together and let the random violence wash over them without actually watching. Besides, Sam smelled really, really good, like Goku’s soap and familiar cigarettes and a home-cooked meal and _Sanzo_\--light, power, and heaven made flesh--under all that. Goku couldn’t help nuzzling Sam’s neck to get more of that scent along with the taste of his skin and feel of his pulse. Alive. So alive and right _here_. Goku expected to get hit at any time, yet Sam just let his hand settle atop the small of Goku’s back and breathed in deeper.

“_Sam_,” Goku said fervently to make sure Sam realized he knew who he was with and who he wanted, then kissed him. They kissed _each other_, with Goku climbing onto his lap and feeling there too just how willing Sam was. So excited. “Sam, want you so much. I’m so hungry....”

“So eat me,” Sam murmured after a kiss, looking at him with wicked eyes the color of new spring leaves. “Just... no biting.”

“I just didn’t want this to go so fast--”

“Then go slower next time.”

Goku’s heart might burst. “Yeah.” He slid down off Sam’s lap to kneel on the carpeting and open Sam’s fly... and didn’t find underwear. Raising an eyebrow, he looked up at Sam.

“Shut up. You’re a predictable little monkey and I’m a fucking teenage boy.”

“Not yet,” Goku answered, then licked a slow stripe down Sam’s hard cock, smiling at the way Sam’s hips pushed up and he gasped. Tasted so good.

Sam’s hands gripped Goku’s hair tightly. Teenage boy. Right. Goku went down on him happily, his mouth filled, cock heavy on his tongue, and sucked, putting his hands on Sam’s hips to protect himself from Sam’s enthusiasm. Goku might appreciate the enthusiasm, but a strong thrust could still hurt if it surprised him. Looking up, he savored the look of unabashed pleasure on Sam’s face, fervent grip, and feel of love through their link. This was the way it should be.

Satisfied, happy, Goku came right after him.

  


* * *

Feeling wonderful and wrung out, Sam petted Goku’s head in his lap. Nonattachment, “hold nothing,” was such bullshit. Nii had torn everything he’d ever loved or tried to hold onto away from him for centuries. Sam fully intended to be greedy from now on and live in happiness with his greedy little monkey. Anyone who tried to deny him that could choke and die.

  


* * *

“That’s so wrong,” Ravi said as he snacked on the potato chips Bob had brought them.

“It was very kind of Bob to lend me a shirt when my own was such a mess and full of glass.” Tim knew the man would have lent him pants as well if he’d had any that would fit.

“On a practical standpoint, I get that. But seeing my lover in clothing I know belongs to my much older boss is messing with me on every other level.”

“I understand. I can always take it off when we get home. That’s something to look forward to.”

“Now _that’s_ a nice thought.” Grinning, Ravi let his legs swing as he sat on the edge of the gurney. Tim tried not to stare hungrily at the white wear marks on the crotch of Ravi’s jeans.

Bob had provided for Ravi as well, so Ravi currently wore some knock-around clothing--faded old blue jeans and a faded black T-shirt with holes at the frayed collar--he kept at the lounge to wear during messier tasks. Tim found it very appealing and had difficulties keeping his hands to himself, although he persevered, not wanting to make them any more of a public spectacle than they’d already been coming in with the cops. Still, they’d been separated throughout the police interviews and doctor examinations, this was their first time alone here, and he’d come so close to losing Ravi today. The memory of that evil bitch setting her blades against Ravi’s face near his eye and _gloating_ about the damage she would do....

Whatever Sam had done to her, she hadn’t suffered enough. The blades had left no physical marks, but what emotional or mental scarring might the experience cause?

In total, Tim didn’t know what to think about the day’s events. More things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy, yes. Hell, what was _Goku_? Tim and Ravi had agreed that they’d been more injured before the explosion of Sam’s power than afterward, healed somewhat. He should be thoroughly unsettled, yet he felt exhilarated as well. And somehow not entirely surprised.

“I am saving these pants if I have to pick every bit of glass out by hand with tweezers,” Ravi muttered to himself as he held onto the bag the doctors had given them for their clothing.

“I love those pants too.”

Ravi grinned. Although the doctors had cleaned him up some to examine him, dried blood lingered in places on his face. “It’s good to be appreciated.”

“Everybody said it’s okay for you to check out, though the cops will probably contact you again in the near future,” Bob said as he walked up with Sam and Goku, both of whom looked well. You’d never know Goku had been shot and beaten half to death only hours ago. In fact, he looked energized and happy, nearly glowing with it. You’d also never know that he’d had hair down to his waist, gold eyes with pupils slit like a cat’s, and sharp teeth and claws earlier either. Now that Tim really looked, he could see glints of gold through Goku’s long brown bangs.

Ravi laughed. “Sam finally put out, didn’t he?”

Sam glowered, blushed a little, and looked somewhat defensive, while Goku beamed, then turned more serious and said, “You pervert! Polite people don’t go around announcing things like that.”

“Yeah, yeah. If you keep doing it maybe he’ll be less of a bitch. So, was he a virgin? Ow! You didn’t have anything in your hands a moment ago so where the hell did that newspaper come from?” Ravi rubbed the side of his head.

“Hammer space.” Sam smiled evilly as he tapped his rolled-up newspaper against the palm of his other hand. “I suggest you put your pet in obedience school, Tim.”

“But I enjoy his puppyish enthusiasm so much,” Tim answered. “Although I may keep the rolled-up newspaper idea in mind for serious misbehavior.” It relieved Tim to see Sam in such good spirits after the disgusting things that woman had told him. Did he still carry those scrolls in his backpack?

It was kind of Sam and Goku to come see them.

“You may be too kinky for me, Timmeh,” Ravi said. “All right. Let’s sign out and get the hell out of here.”

As they drove away in Bob’s SUV, Bob said, “I don’t want to see either of you at work until the day after tomorrow. I’ll get Karen to come in and sub in myself.”

“But I feel great!” Goku said.

“Take some time off.”

Goku finally noticed the expression on Bob’s face and burrowed in against Sam’s side, something Sam accepted with an overly long-suffering look that no one believed. “Gotcha. Thanks, boss!”

“Hey, boss, drop us off at Tim’s place,” Ravi said.

It left Tim with such a warm feeling that Ravi had put him first, and he said, “Thank you. That would be nice, if it’s no trouble. I’ll wash and return your shirt, Bob.”

“I can wait on the shirt. Take care of yourselves first.”

“Thank you. Hmm. I really have to stop ending up in the news like this.”

“Classes don’t start for another two months. It’ll blow over.”

“Administrators and parents have long memories.”

“If you get heat over this, I’ll see what I can do. This attack on you led to the discovery of a major drug lab after all. You almost did the public a service.”

Tim couldn’t help smiling at that. Maybe things would work out after all, with such powerful and determined allies. Sam was shaking his head somewhat ruefully, which made sense given his own recent propensity for being in the middle of flashy events. Tim found his quiet over the ride worrying, but Sam seemed simply thoughtful so maybe there was no cause for concern.

At Tim’s apartment building, Tim said, “You can all come up and stay for a bit,” just out of politeness.

“Nah, we’ll give you some time to yourselves,” Goku answered with a smile.

“Thank God,” Ravi said, which was exactly how Tim felt about it. They waved merrily as their friends drove away. Tim suspected that they both needed sleep badly, but he had other, more pressing needs at the moment.

Once inside the apartment, Ravi said, “I need to get the blood and hospital smell off. Wanna join me?”

“Yes,” Tim answered fervently.

Watching Ravi walk around the bathroom getting things, knowing where everything was, gave Tim an odd feeling. Why should it surprise him when Ravi already spent so much time here? He almost lived here already....

“Move in with me,” Tim said.

Surprised, Ravi dropped the shampoo and turned back to look at Tim. “You really mean that? We haven’t known each other for that long.”

“Yes. I want to have you here.” Besides, once school started again it would be so much easier to see Ravi if he _lived_ here.

“Your administrators might care.”

“As long as I don’t flaunt you, if they fired me for my lifestyle I could make so much publicity and legal trouble for them that they would pray they’d never messed with me. And they know I would.” They had more of a case against him if he kept getting attacked by drug dealers, but the school was too famously liberal and tolerant to recover from the damage he could do them if they moved against him for being gay, and if they tried to make his liaison with Ravi into a thing of shame he would damn well make them pay.

Perhaps he might be ready to introduce Ravi to his family soon. After putting him through some hell they’d finally accepted that he might bring a man home instead of a woman but had told him very firmly that any man he took up with had to be a decorous, sober-minded individual. They’d _love_ Ravi. But Tim, who’d never felt such passion for another human being, couldn’t care.

Well, he’d harbored some strange feelings for his aunt but hadn’t pursued that.

“Yeah, baby. But you know my tastes are a bit different than yours. I own chili pepper lights.”

“You wouldn’t be allowed to put those up because they’re an offense against humanity, but otherwise that’s okay.”

“You’re disrespecting my chili peppers?”

“Ravi, please. I’m serious.” Did Ravi expect him to withdraw his offer if he thought on it more? “Yes or no?”

Finally reassured it seemed, Ravi smiled. “Yes. Definitely yes, though it’ll be a while because I have to give my landlord a month’s notice before I can get out. I would offer to let you move in with me if my neighborhood and apartment weren’t so bad, you know that, right?”

The drug dealers, the vermin, the broken elevator, the nearly 30-year-old avocado-colored refrigerator.... “I know.”

“Right then. Now will you take off Bob’s shirt before I’m traumatized for life?”

“I’ll take everything off.” Tim did, stripping with far less grace than Ravi did, since Ravi had a gift for speed and display at once.

Once in the shower together they washed a bit but mostly kissed and stroked one another to madness. Ravi felt so right, rocking against him.... Tim moaned out his satisfaction against Ravi’s wet, slick neck, and smiled as Ravi came soon after him.

As they rested together under the warm spray of water, idly and sleepily washing each other in truth, Ravi smiled, but almost nervously. “I knew we’d get out of there okay, because I know how I’m gonna die.”

“Liar.”

“Work with me here.”

“All right. Oh. Do you really, Ravi?”

“Yeah really. In bed at 96 after having great sex with a hottie. I have to tell you, you’ll be damned hot for a man of 101.”

Tim was touched and amused all at once. “Thank you. But that would be a traumatic experience for me, your partner.”

“Yeah, but it can’t be avoided. Everybody has to go sometime.”

“I suppose I’ll only be living to 101, then.”

Ravi looked surprised. “No need for you to go just ‘cause I’m gone.”

“I think I’d want to.”

“Oh.”

“Still, a long life.” A long life, decades on decades, spent together. Recent events suggested that they’d already spent hundreds of years together, so why stop now?

  


* * *

Watching martial arts films in between sex, eating pizza while lounging on the couch in his boxers (Sam _would not_ wander around naked, unlike _some_ people), Goku similarly barely dressed at his side, Sam decided that he could get used to this kind of life. But Goku had to be more careful with the cheese on his slices. “Hey! Be more careful. This is my bed we’re sitting on even if it’s not folded out,” Sam said.

“Sam, you could share my bed,” Goku answered, bright-eyed. “It has advantages since it’s big and it’s not the couch.”

“Can’t argue with that.”

“That you could share my bed?”

“That your bed isn’t the couch.”

Goku growled and pouted, which was not cute. At all.

It seemed like a big step to Sam, but he _had_ been here before, a long time ago, even if then it had been his own bed he had to consider sharing. He just remembered being Sam, with Sam’s issues, better than being any of the others, which had to be better for his sanity. “I don’t know,” Sam said. “I remember that you tend to either sprawl all over or hold me in a deathgrip. I have to breathe.”

Rolling his eyes, Goku answered, “I know. After all the trouble I went to, I’m not going to kill you in my sleep.” Goku wasn’t quite the same either, which made reacting to him as Sam a better bet anyway.

“I’ll try your bed. But if it doesn’t work out....”

“It’ll work out!”

“We’ll see.”

“You’re so mean,” Goku said but nuzzled Sam’s neck. “Oh, hey. You seem, I dunno, more centered than you were. I thought you’d be, uhm....”

“More of a wreck after facing down my ultimate nemesis, remembering centuries of trauma, and ripping the sutras back from where they’d gone?”

“Hell yeah.”

Sam shrugged. “Things make more sense now, I repress the memories I don’t need, and if these are two of the five scriptures that created heaven and earth do you really think they couldn’t fix one teenager?”

It took a moment, but then Goku brightened. “You don’t have to worry about going crazy anymore?”

“I don’t think so. At least not unless you or the other two drive me there yourselves.”

“But you still know stuff and crap. Your abilities.”

“Yeah, I still have all the crap. I just have better control over it.”

“That’s so cool!” Being Goku, a celebration of coolness meant that he had to hold Sam tightly. It wasn’t so bad.

  


* * *

A familiar feeling woke Sam sometime in the middle of the night, making him untangle himself from Goku, throw on some clothes, and go outside. “_Now_ you show up,” Sam said as he saw hir.

Se wore flip-flops, a bikini top, and black leather shorts with the top button of the fly undone. The shorts really showed off hir package. “You just made it easier. Besides, you never liked having my help.”

“And, besides, you like to watch.” Sam knew se hadn’t helped Nii. Wasn’t hir style. But enjoying the chaos? He wouldn’t put it past hir.

Se looked annoyed. “Not like that. You’ll always be my favorite nephew.”

“What will the damages be?” Sam could almost feel the sutras fluttering in loneliness in the apartment with him gone. “Of bringing them back.”

“Hard to say what seeped through the rift you opened and closed.”

“Youkai?”

“No. They’re extinct. Your main trouble will be disembodied things looking for bodies.”

“That should be fun.”

“You turned down a return ticket to heaven because you hated to be bored. You all did.”

“You’re going to throw that in our faces for the rest of eternity, aren’t you?”

“Or until it stops being entertaining, yes. Don’t glower at me like that, because it won’t do you any good. I’ll give you a consolation prize, though. It’ll start showing up in a few days.”

Sam refused to be curious. “Sure.”

“Kids these days have no sense of appreciation,” se said with a smirk before disappearing in a flash of golden light and the scent of lilies.

World was really going to regret him bringing magic back into it, wasn’t it? Nothing he could do now except clean up the messes, the story of his lives.

  


* * *

With the Fifty-eight having a slow night, Ravi had time to reflect on how his life hadn’t changed as much as you’d expect it would after being attacked by hyped-up thugs and threatened with the torture and death of you and your closest friends. Once he finished his very nice vacation with Tim, Ravi just went back to work, same old, without even any PTSD flashes, as if he faced that kind of shit all the time. C’mon, _magic_ had returned to the world, and nothing looked different but Goku. Actually, Ravi thought that most of the “magic” lighting Goku up lately might be more happiness and getting some on a regular basis than anything supernatural.

Still, Ravi couldn’t help noticing the tiara peeking through spaces in Goku’s bangs now and then now that he looked for it. Goku reacted violently to it being called a “tiara,” which was why Ravi now referred to it exclusively as such, though he only ever mentioned it in private, and even called Goku a “debutante” now and then in private and in public. Good times. Little fights kept the blood pumping and reminded you that you were alive.

Sam walked into the lounge and sighed at having the neon plastic strip attached to his wrist. Ravi couldn’t help noticing his red chakra mark either. The kid probably still carried the scriptures in the backpack he took with him everywhere. Sam was still a bitch but less of one now that he got some on a regular basis. Ravi approved.

Ravi didn’t approve so much of how dirty Sam looked. What the hell had he gotten into?

Goku’s nostrils flared, then he asked, “What the hell happened? I thought the cops weren’t going to put you in danger!”

“You can smell danger?” Ravi asked.

“I can smell blood, gunpowder, and corpses.”

“Say what?”

Tim looked angry, having accepted the job for Sam. “I have to have a talk with them.”

“Yeah, they’ll be really intimidated by a college professor,” Sam said as he sat at the bar. “Besides, they didn’t expect the corpse to be there or for it to get up and start moving.”

“Please rewind that. I misheard you,” Ravi answered as he got Sam a cup of water.

Sam gave it a disdainful look like he wanted something stronger. “Yeah. It was dead but it got up and moved. I think it was after me in particular. The cops were just drop-jawed, especially since the thing was rotting and thus obviously a corpse, so I grabbed one of their guns and started shooting. Damn, I miss my banishing gun. It would have been easier. Using the scriptures would have been easier too, but there was no way I could do that in front of that audience. Anyway, the shooting broke the cops out of their trances, so they started shooting too but it kept on coming. I had to hit the crown chakra to take it out.” Sam shook his head, then grinned. “But the cops were impressed by my marksmanship, and I gave them a story about hunting back home. They’re working on getting me legal to carry a gun. So, chill, Tim. I like it.”

“You’re a freak,” Ravi said.

“Yeah. And?” Sam took a deep gulp of water. “You tell your landlord that you’re moving out yet?”

“I gave him my month’s notice today but he didn’t care, which took a lot of the fun out of it. He probably figures he’ll charge more rent to the next sucker.”

“Probably, even though your apartment is a pit.”

“You never saw it!”

“Tim described it.”

“Thanks, Timmeh.”

“I’m devoted to the truth,” Tim answered. Ravi’s honey, the one he’d be moving in with. They’d be going to see Tim’s parents in a week, and even if they hated him the fact that Tim had brought him over meant so much. He had to smile at him, and Tim smiled back.

“Get a room. Now,” Sam said. “I didn’t lose my stomach over the corpse but I’m tempted now.”

“You’ll help me move in, right?” Ravi asked.

“Why would I?”

“I’d help _you_.”

“I have so little I could move myself in ten minutes.”

“You’ll do it because otherwise I will guilt trip you until the end of time,” Tim said sweetly.

“Tch. You would too. Fine. I’ll help.”

“It’s all part of being a better person.”

“Whatever. Tim, you might be happy about some stuff I got in the mail today.” Sam handed the envelopes over to Tim to look at. “The scholarship fairy started visiting me.”

“I looked into some for you, but nothing has panned out yet. Were you looking on your own?”

“Nope. However, I’ve gotten some substantial scholarships from a few Buddhist organizations and one big one from Philip Morris.”

“How did they hear about you, Marlboro man?” Ravi asked, weirded out.

“Probably from my trannie aunt.”

It made no sense to Ravi, but Goku looked abruptly more alert and annoyed. At least somebody knew what was going on.

“So I might as well see if I can get admitted to Tim’s school,” Sam said.

“More enthusiasm would be appreciated,” Tim answered stiffly. Aw! School pride, geek love! “In any case, it would have to be for the spring semester. You’re too late for fall for most schools.”

“I get that. It gives me time to research the schools and figure out what to major in. I want a degree in something useful.”

“What are you looking at me for?” Ravi asked. “I use my degree everyday. It’s helpful for the customers.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You are such a little bitch.” But Sam seemed happier and healthier lately, so Ravi couldn’t be too offended. “Ted, what the hell are you doing here?” The whole band had come in.

“We had to pay our respects,” Ted answered. “Tim’s car on the news....”

“We’re glad all of that is stating to blow over,” Tim said.

“Bob said he’d break my kneecaps if I bothered you guys at home, so we had to wait for Ravi to come back to work and Tim to sit around admiring him.”

“It’s hardly like that.”

“Looks like it,” Chris said, the bitch. “And this is our new lead singer, Laura.”

She was a pretty, large-eyed girl. Very nice. But for some reason she only had room in those large eyes for Sam. “Hi. I only tried out because you were such an inspiration!”

Goku looked pissed, and Sam looked uncomfortable, especially with Laura right at his side. “Thanks,” he murmured.

Ted grabbed her arm and pulled her away a bit, looking a little embarrassed by her gushing, and said, “Yeah. So we just came by to see how you were. You look great!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ravi answered. “You’re not getting free drinks.”

“You wound us,” Chris said dryly. “Come along everybody.”

Laura’s “goodbye” was more fervent than the rest’s and obviously directed only to Sam. Once they left, Sam said to Goku, “That was Dougan.”

“_What_? I haven’t seen him in--” Goku just about sputtered. “Okay, any time they play, you’re not gonna be here.”

“Might not be so crazy this time. Besides, I’m not letting anyone stop me from going anywhere.”

“Can the rest of us have cheat sheets?” Ravi asked. “Is this Dougan person on the killer psycho bitch level?”

“Just about,” Goku muttered. “He had a psycho obsession with Sanzo and tried to kill all of us.”

“Okay, we officially don’t like this person.”

“If those are grounds enough to avoid people, I see my social circle diminishing big time,” Sam said.

“Everybody wants to kill you? I’m glad I’m not the only one.” Same old. But it made Ravi smile.

 

### End


End file.
